A Hidden Past
by Blissful Thinking
Summary: When Merlin jumps in front of a spell that was supposed to make Arthur relive his worst memories, he suffers the effects. Everyone sees. No slash! Reveal!fic Merlin!Whump.
1. Chapter 1

**A Hidden Past- Chapter 1**

 _Chapter 1 - Prologue_

 _Warning/s: None_

 _Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin_

 _A/N: Hi guys. This is my first ever fanfiction! Woohoo! I finally got round to giving this little idea a whirl and hopefully it's not too bad. This chapter will be short because it's kind of the prologue but the others will be longer, promise. I have no idea how regularly I will be updating this story as I'm only just getting into this but it should be fairly regular. Enjoy!_

 _Many thanks to Cordelia Rose who betaed this!_

Sprinting down a corridor at top speed whilst carrying the entire set of the king's armour in your hands is no easy thing, but after five years of service you'd think Merlin would have got the hang of it. Unfortunately, this wasn't the case. Only metres from his destination disaster struck the puffing boy; having woken up late as usual, he hadn't had time to tie his bootlaces. He stumbled once, twice… CRASH! The newly polished armour soared out of Merlin's hands and clattered to the floor as he went down. Arthur, hair messed from sleeping and only in his night clothes, rushed out of his room, sword drawn. He stood on tiptoe and puffed out his chest, trying to appear regal whilst in his nightwear. His attempts failed miserably and all he succeeded in was making himself look like slightly drunk chicken. He quickly scanned the deserted corridor for intruders but all that met his gaze was his manservant in a crumpled heap with a pile of armour surrounding him.

"Merlin, you idiot. Do you not have the mental capacity to walk from your room to here without tripping over your own feet once in a while? That's the fourth time this week," the prince exclaimed, lowering his sword in relief, he really didn't want to be fighting off enemies this early in the morning.

"Just keeping you on your toes sire," came Merlin's muffled reply as he picked himself up off the floor and nursed his banged elbow.

"Well maybe next time you should remember to tie your own shoelaces," Arthur reprimanded, poking the offending bits of string with the tip of his sword whilst trying to hide his smirk.

"If you didn't make me wake up at the crack of dawn I would have time to do them, prat," Merlin complained, gathering the fallen armour up into his arms and striding past the king into his rooms. Dumping it on the table, he grimaced at the new dents on the breastplate. Outside the king sighed loudly before following him inside the room. Merlin tried unsuccessfully to hide the dents by burying the piece underneath the others but Arthur's sharp eyes spotted it. They narrowed.

"As well as fixing those dents, you will muck out the stables, wash my clothes and tidy this room until it is so clean that I will be able to eat my dinner off the floor."

Merlin groaned and began collecting the dirty washing strewn in heaps across the stone floor. He dumped it in the laundry basket before attempting to sneak off without being lectured, again. He had no such luck.

"Merlin?"

"Yes, your royal pratness?"

"Where's my breakfast? It had better be on my table in five minutes or you will be spending the next week in the stocks. Do take your time though by all means."

Arthur grinned to himself as he heard Merlin hiss _prat_ under his breath before storming out. He started counting: 1, 2, 3…

Merlin returned exactly four minutes later to a fully dressed and impatient prince. He placed the plate of meat, bread and cheese on the table with a flourish of his hands. He instantly regretted the flourish as his hands collided with the pile of neatly stacked and ordered papers, which also sat on the table. They teetered for a moment before sliding off and helpfully scattering themselves on the floor. Arthur just rolled his eyes and plucked his council meeting notes from under his feet and placed them back on the table. "You add the mess you just made to your list of duties Merlin."

"Your breakfast sire," Merlin said, trying to avoid standing on the papers and added, in what he thought was a whisper, "like you need it." Arthur lobbed the nearest thing to him at the disrespectful servant, which turned out to be his glass inkwell. The missile soared through the air before it hit its target squarely in the chest. The ornate bottle remained intact until it met its untimely end on the floor. Merlin was coated, head to foot, in ink. It dripped off his raven locks onto his nose, making it look like his hair was melting onto his face. Arthur shoved a hand over his mouth to stifle his chuckles; he was the prince he couldn't be seen in hysterics.

"Go get changed, before I die of laughter," he gasped out between chuckles.

"Wouldn't that be nice," Merlin shot back, failing to muster his dignity which floated in tatters in the growing puddle of ink by his feet. He headed out the door, leaving a black trail behind him.

Gwen ran into him as he was trudging despondently towards Gaius' chambers and she almost dropped the sheaf of papers she was carrying at seeing him. Her expression morphed from one of mild boredom to shock then to confusion.

"Merlin, what on Earth happened?" she asked, absorbing his ink splattered form.

"Your clotpole of a husband happened," he replied grinning, showing a splash of white in the sea of black that was his face.

Gwen laughed and fished a lace handkerchief from a pocket in her velvet gown, she handed it over. The servant smiled and wiped his blackened face. He thanked her before continuing his journey but Gwen stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Merlin, I'll have someone clear up the… trail you're leaving behind." He turned and groaned as he saw the footprints that followed him down the corridor.

"Thanks, Gwen."

She smiled and headed towards the royal chambers, shaking her head slightly at Merlin and her husband's antics. Only they could have ended up causing a mess like this. As she walked she noticed a few passing servants give her odd looks. Did she have something on her face? She brushed a hand through her hair and over her face. Maybe they were just not used to her being the Queen yet. She smiled at them, trying to show that just because she was Queen it didn't mean she wasn't still Gwen. She pondered this as she entered her chambers, only just side-stepping the servant cleaning a puddle of ink off the floor by the door. Arthur was sat at his desk, eating breakfast and leafing through his notes for the upcoming council meeting. He heard Gwen's approach and smiled. His wife: how he loved being able to call her that after so long hiding their feelings. She sat gracefully down next to him and rested her head on his shoulder. He turned his head to say how beautiful she was looking this morning but halted mid-sentence. Gwen raised her head and glared at him.

"What is it? Tell me Arthur."

"Have you seen Merlin this morning?" Arthur said quietly.

"Yes, but what does that matter?

"You have ink on your face and in your hair. Oh, and on your hand."

Gwen grabbed the jewel encrusted mirror Arthur had given her for her last birthday and sure enough her reflection revealed two large black smudges on her cheeks and nose. A streak of ink also peeped out of her brown curls.

"That's why they were staring at me…" she sighed and began rubbing them off with another lace handkerchief procured from her pocket.

"Who?"

"People I passed in the corridors," Gwen said, blushing at what they must have thought of her, their queen, walking through the castle covered with ink. They were probably gossiping right now about how their queen was a dirty peasant who had no right to the crown. She needed to prove them wrong and not noticing that she had ink on her was not the way to go about it.

"I don't understand how it got on your face though. Merlin may be an idiot and a rubbish manservant but he doesn't go round touching your face." Arthur waited for Gwen to explain about the ink situation but she didn't say a word. "He better not be touching your face or I'll kill him. You're my wife and if he has ever laid a finger…" He got no further as his angered tones shook Gwen from her thoughts.

"Gods no, he has never touched my face. I put my hand on his arm and the ink must have got on my hand and then like the idiot I am, I touched my face." Gwen sighed. "I'm such a rubbish queen."

"No, how can you think that? You are the most compassionate, understanding, intelligent queen the people could wish for," Arthur replied, trying to get her to look at him and see the truth.

"You really think that?" Gwen said, hopefully, lifting her eyes to meet his gaze. The insecurities that Arthur saw there made him want to scream at anyone who made her feel that way.

"Yes. Now, we have a council meeting to attend and where is Merlin? He should be back by now."

"Give him some time; you did throw ink all over him," Gwen chuckled, the image of Merlin in the corridor appearing in her mind.

"Well, he better be there," was all that Arthur said.

Gwen smiled, her now clean cheeks dimpling in amusement. Arm in arm the couple strode out of the room in high spirits, expecting another uneventful day - well, as uneventful as having Merlin around can be.

How wrong they were.


	2. Chapter 2

**A Hidden Past- Chapter 2**

 _Chapter 2 – The First Revelation_

 _Warning/s: None_

 _Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin_

 _A/N: Hi guys. I have a few things to clear up after reading your lovely reviews. The time period this is set in is post season 4, this means that Gwen and Arthur are married; Arthur is king not prince as I made the mistake of mentioning. The real reveal part of this story will start in the next chapter!_

 _Enjoy!_

 _Many thanks to Cordelia Rose who betaed this!_

* * *

The Round Table was full by the time Arthur and Gwen had entered the council chamber; everyone except Merlin was there, Arthur noticed. That boy never was on time for anything. All the knights had managed to get here on time so why couldn't he for once? They were chattering among themselves and Arthur was glad to see that Gwaine was not intoxicated. After last week's meeting he wasn't sure he ever wanted to allow the knight to attend one again. He had entered completely drunk. He had started off his drunken performance by declaring his love to the king and attempting to plant a sloppy kiss on Arthur's forehead. It had taken Leon, Percival and Maverick to restrain him and return him to his seat. Then he had proceeded to sing about the glory of Arthur's socks before promptly passing out on the table. The only reason Arthur had decided to let him come was because Leon had informed him afterwards, that on the last patrol Gwaine had led, two of the junior knights in the party had been killed. Arthur could understand the man's guilt driven drinking frenzy. He too had felt the pain of losing men; it laid like a suffocating fog on the mind, making you relive those dreadful moments again and again... having to tell a wife that she was a widow, children that their father wouldn't be coming back or a mother that her child was gone. It was heart breaking.

The chatter died down as the king and queen took their seats. Arthur cleared his throat. "Leon, how has the Brimstone matter progressed? Have the bandits been removed?" he asked, turning to face the man in question.

"Yes, I believe so as the surrounding area has been searched and all signs of bandit activity has ceased. Sirs Grant and Renold are staying behind in the village to make sure they don't return," Leon reported. The knight looked proud and pleased that his men had done their duty so throughly, and Arthur couldn't blame him. Those particular bandits had been pillaging Brimstone village for weeks before he had managed to send a party to deal with them and Leon had lost more than a few night's sleep over them.

"Good. Percival, how are the new recruits doing? I haven't had as much time as I would have liked to watch them train," Arthur said, wishing the visiting lords hadn't demanded that he spend as much time as possible with them, going over ancient treaties that had in no way helped. Percival handed a piece of parchment over which had the training scores inked on it.

"Lord Perrington's youngest son is doing well; he is talented with a bow and adequate with a sword. I should like, with your permission sire, to give him some extra sessions," Percival said, giving Arthur a look that wasn't dissimilar to one that a puppy gives to its owner, when it wants a nice meaty bone. The scores did look promising and Percival didn't have many other duties outside of the usual ones.

"Yes, I agree. I hope you will be able to instil your bravery and loyalty into him."

"Not to mention his muscles," teased Gwaine from across the table, giving Percival a beaming smile. The big knight grinned and flexed his biceps at him. Arthur started to tell Gwaine that muscle wasn't everything in a fight, when a deafening blast sent them all flying. Arthur hit the wall of the chamber with a thud; around him his knights were already drawing their swords and struggling to their feet. His ears were ringing and it felt like a fly was buzzing around inside his head. He pulled Excalibur from the sheath on his hip and levelled it at where he thought the explosion had originated, shaking his head to clear it.

"Sire? Are you unharmed?" Leon's voice asked from his side, having rushed over to defend his king.

"Yes. Is everyone else alright?" A chorus of confirmation was his answer. The smoke that had filled the room seconds after the bang was beginning to clear and the young king could see his knights' silhouettes through it. Suddenly, it vanished as if commanded to do so and the scene around him became clear. Everything was in disarray, apart from a few chairs that were upturned,everything else was in pieces. The Round Table was cracked in two and piled up against the wall, the glass chandelier was hanging by one chain from the ceiling with the majority of the glass crystals smashed on the floor and the red and gold Camelot banners, that hung in between the windows were lying limp on the floor in shreds. All his knights were there and Gwen was… She wasn't by his side. Desperately, he spun round and his eyes met a grim sight. A middle-aged woman in a tatty, rugged dress and piercing green eyes had a knife to Gwen's throat. She was shaking her head at Arthur, trying to get him to think before he did something he would regret but she could not hide the fear that lurked in her eyes. "No!" Arthur roared, charging the woman, but she calmly pressed the knife a little harder into the queen's throat. A small drop of blood began sliding down Gwen's exposed neck and Arthur stopped dead, frozen in fear. His thoughts were racing too fast for him to think rationally, all that mattered was that Gwen was in danger and he needed to save her.

"Take one more step little king and I'll slit your precious wife's throat," she rasped, eyes glittering with glee.

"Let her go. She has done nothing to you."

"Why would I let the only thing stopping you from killing me where I stand go? No, I think I'll keep her until you and your filthy knights drop your weapons."

Gwen was shaking her head, telling him to think about the people not her but Arthur let Excalibur drop from his hand and clatter to the floor. His knights followed his example and soon the polished marble floor was littered with discarded swords and daggers.

"Good boy. You can have your pretty queen back now," she mocked, releasing Gwen and pushing her towards the king. He grabbed her shoulders and tilted her head up to inspect the shallow cut before putting his arm around her protectively, challenging the woman to touch her again. Gwen brushed his arm away and instead, stood by his side. She would not be cowed. The woman in question raised an eyebrow at Arthur's glare and, tossing her matted grey hair, she raised a hand mumbling something. Instantly, Arthur felt his limbs freeze and he realised with a growing sense of dread that this woman was no ordinary woman. She was a sorceress. Merlin, if he was here, would have called him stupid for not realising sooner. I mean, the massive gust of wind was a pretty big giveaway. Apparently, his men had also been enchanted as they called out in frustration. The sorceress walked confidently forward until she was eye to eye with Arthur; she smirked arrogantly and placed a cracked fingernail on his chin.

"I see that you know now what I am capable of, little king, maybe you will listen to me. I am Kileen, the daughter of a man that you slayed with those bloodstained hands of yours. He was guilty of no crime but possessing a little magic, something that I have inherited, although mine is so much more powerful. I have waited a great many years to have you like this before me, weak and helpless," Kileen explained, her eyes narrowing as she remembered her father and his untimely death. Arthur almost growled in frustration, he should have guessed, of course she was a sorceress. Every single time he was attacked by someone in his own castle it was someone who wanted revenge for a loved one he or mainly his father had killed. He regretted those moments in his youth when he had followed his father blindly but everyone makes mistakes: why did his always end up coming back to haunt him?

"You've already lost your father so I was too late to inflict that pain on you that but I have come across a rather wonderful spell that makes the victim experience their worst memories," she said, relishing in the fleeting look of fear that crossed his face.

"That's not the best bit though."

"There's a best bit," Arthur spat but instantly regretted it as her smirk morphed into a sneer.

"I will enjoy making you suffer Arthur Pendragon, for everyone to see," she hissed and finally he got it. All his men, Gwen and the sorceress would see his memories; Gods he needed to escape. He tried to fight the spell that bound him, tried to find some way of breaking it but it was hopeless. Instead, he braced himself as Kileen raised her hand. The resounding crack that followed made Arthur realise that Kileen was beginning her spell. Arthur waited for the memories to burst from his mind but instead a familiar voice shouted his name.

"Arthur!"

Merlin burst through the doors and staggered back a step as he witnessed the scene in front of him. The knights and Arthur were frozen in place and a strange woman was about to… He cursed, she was about to perform some kind of spell on Arthur and from the looks of his expression it wasn't a good one that would make him less of a prat.

"Merlin!"

Arthur's panicked tones shocked Merlin into action; he began sprinting towards the sorceress whilst muttering a shield spell under his breath. Kileen turned her attention from Arthur to the young servant currently on a collision course with her. She began chanting the same freezing spell but Merlin whispered a counter-spell. He blocked out the stunned gasps as his friends witnessed his eyes change colour, he couldn't think about that now. They could hate him, banish him, burn him but right now he had to protect Arthur. He was almost there, just a little further. Realising that her spell had failed, Kileen started incanting the enchantment on Arthur. If she couldn't freeze the servant then he could just be another witness of the Pendragon's pain. A crackling purple ball of energy swirled in her palm and she aimed it at the king. It hurtled through the air and rebounded off the milky shield that had erupted in front of Arthur only seconds earlier. Merlin allowed himself a small smile of victory before the ball hit him square in the chest. He gasped. All the air had been knocked from his lungs, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't think. His body was numbing and his senses dulling. He collapsed to the floor, choking and convulsing as the spell began to work.

Merlin's betrayal washed over him like an icy wave, the person he trusted above everyone had… magic. At that moment, Merlin groaned as fire ripped through his bloodstream. The pain in Merlin's voice was too much for Arthur, whatever reason Merlin had for practicing magic it would be worth hearing and he would give him that chance. He shouted at his idiotic, self-sacrificing servant, he should have been the one to suffer not his… friend. Kileen smiled at seeing the king's horrified expression. She had been surprised when the young servant turned out to have magic, powerful enough to overcome her own and she didn't like surprises.

"Maybe watching your servant's agony will be even more painful for you," she laughed and willed the doors to slam shut and lock. She didn't want anyone else interfering. Kileen settled herself on a nearby, overturned chair as her revenge was enacted before her eyes. The young man was coated in a fine sheen of sweat and tremors wracked Merlin's body as he tried to fight the spell that was causing images to swirl across his blackening vision, images of people that were lost to him. His failures… His scars… His hidden past.


	3. Chapter 3

**A Hidden Past: Chapter 3- Childhood**

 _ **Chapter 3 – Childhood**_

 _ **Warning/s: Violence and slight graphic detail, but no gore**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or Sharron as my wonderful beta almost changed his name too! Don't ask me why!**_

 _ **A/N: Hi guys. We've made it to the first vision! Dun, dun, dun… For those of you who guessed correctly what this would be about have a virtual cookie.(::) Thank you to everyone who followed, reviewed and favorited, they are very much appreciated and let me know that I'm doing something right with this story.**_ _ **Sorry this took longer than I anticipated it would to upload but I won't bore you with excuses. It's up though! Please check out the poll on my page about which story you want me to work on next. Also, just a little warning the next chapter may be a little wait as I'm currently on work experience.**_

 _ **Enjoy!**_

 _ **Many thanks to Cordelia Rose who betaed this!**_

* * *

Arthur opened his eyes to a scene that was faintly familiar; he was standing on the doorstep of a small hut. The roof was thatched but several bare patches were noticeable, smoke was floating out of the chimney and a woman's singing could be heard inside, as well as the bashing of pots. It was clear that the inhabitant was cooking. He remembered this place: could it be a place he had visited hunting? A pained groan made him spin round and he gasped. Merlin was curled up on the grass, head clutched between his hands. Arthur went to run towards him but Kileen's voice echoed in his head: "you can't help him, young king. He's locked in his memories as we all are."

Children's voices made him turn again and watch with amusement as a small group of boys ran past him. They leapt on each other and wrestled whilst squealing with delight as they landed playful punches. One of the larger boys stood and raised a stick, pointing it at another boy. He began jabbing it at him, while the other pretended to die with exaggerated death noises. "I, Sir James, sentence you, John, to death for your crimes of sorcery. Die, sorcerer filth!" he proclaimed, thrusting the stick into the younger boy's chest. Arthur was taken aback at the innocent children's play; they should be playing at heroes, not executing sorcerers. He had been taught that they were evil, that they corrupted the purest of hearts. Obviously, he wasn't the only one who had been taught this. He leant against the cracked wall of the hut behind him and suddenly it struck him. Ealdor. That's where he was, Merlin's home, of course; why hadn't he thought of that before? Of all the places Merlin's earliest memories would be it was here, but surely his worst couldn't be in such a nice place. The children's hatred of magic wouldn't affect Merlin; it wasn't like Merlin started learning magic from such an early age, or so he thought.

The boys were still fighting, this time duelling with more sticks. It made Arthur reminisce of his childhood. He had spent most of it training, trying to please his father, but Merlin's would be different. He would probably be the son of a farmer and his wife who lived their days away from responsibilities and duty. He would have grown up surrounded by love and care, not expectations. So wrapped up in his own thoughts, Arthur didn't notice the pale face materialise in the window by his head. The owner of the face had a shock of black hair that grew low over his eyes and an overall pinched look as if the boy in question had been starved. Arthur only noticed when the boy pressed a hand against the frame and sighed like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Arthur looked up and his jaw hit the floor; the boy was like a mini Merlin. Then it hit him; the boy was Merlin, only he was ten years younger. "Merlin?" a woman's voice called from further inside and young Merlin turned away from watching the others play.

"Yes mother?"

"Could you get some more firewood please?" Hunith, Arthur now realised, called. Merlin disappeared from the window and Arthur soon heard the door to the hut open and shut. He rushed round to follow the boy, wanting to see what Merlin's childhood was like. So far it seemed… normal. He watched Merlin wander aimlessly between the huts, whistling to himself. His destination was another almost identical hut with a woman sitting on the step, a sewing basket on her lap and a tunic on her arm. Her face was crinkled from smiling and laughing, her hands calloused from cooking and cleaning. She looked up as Merlin approached and smiled.

"Morning Merlin, Will's out back," she said, threading a needle and gesturing to around the back of the hut. Merlin's signature goofy grin lit his face up as he dashed towards the small garden behind the hut. Another ten year old boy was there, pulling up carrots. He stopped when he saw Merlin and dumped the freshly pulled vegetables in the growing pile by his feet.

"Hi Merlin, come to play?" he asked, brushing the dirt off his hands on his trousers.

"My mum wants me to get firewood, want to come?" Merlin said, sitting on the low fence surrounding the garden and swinging his legs. Will grinned at him.

"Sure but I've got to finish my chores first, mum needs to sell these at market first thing tomorrow," Will replied, holding up the offending carrots with a grimace.

"I'll help you and then we can get wood together."

Merlin jumped down and knelt beside his friend, eager to get Will's chores done faster so they could play. Arthur smiled faintly, it was just like Merlin to help, he was a kind and loyal person but a small voice whispered in his head. _He has magic, he's evil, and he was only friends with you so he could take the throne._ No, Merlin wasn't like that, he would never betray him like that. Would he? The evil voice returned: _hasn't he already betrayed you by practicing magic?_ Arthur tried to dismiss this thought but it stayed like an unwanted visitor in the back of his mind. Juvenile laughter broke him out of his depressed thoughts as Merlin put two carrots on his forehead and charged at Will, bellowing. Will squealed and threw his own carrots at Merlin. They bounced harmlessly off Merlin's chest as he carried on his pursuit. Arthur noticed what was going to happen seconds before it did, a stray vine snagged Merlin's ankle and he crashed to the ground, right in the middle of a puddle. Water sprayed everywhere, coating the bottom of Will's trousers, the side of the hut and onto a few surprised chickens that had been milling around the vegetable patch. Will chuckled as the hens squawked and ran around in circles, thinking that they were being attacked. He giggled even harder when Merlin picked himself up off the ground. He was coated in a thick layer of mud that was dripping off him and splatting on the floor with squelches. Arthur suppressed his own chuckles at Merlin's clumsiness, some things just don't change. He looked very similar to earlier this morning but covered with mud rather than ink this time. That morning felt like such a long time ago; it had only been an hour since he had been teasing his manservant and now he was watching his worst memories. If falling in a puddle was his worst memory of being a child then this was going to be a breeze, Arthur thought confidently.

By now, young Merlin and Will were heading out of the vegetable patch, their arms full of vegetables. They quickly deposited them with Will's mother before they chased each other out of the village, leaping over logs and avoiding trees. They stopped inside a meadow that was teeming with wildflowers in every imaginable colour. Butterflies floated gently on the slight breeze, drifting from pastel beauty to pastel beauty, skylarks sang merrily from the clouds and a grass snake sunned itself on a nearby rock. The atmosphere was tranquil as if the world was at peace with all things around it. Merlin and Will were lying on their stomachs watching the snake curl and uncurl its tail. Merlin raised his hand and muttered something that made Arthur's stomach drop. Merlin was casting a spell, at this age? It wasn't possible, nobody could do magic so young, not even the druids. Merlin's eyes glowed gold and the snake began to float; he moved his hand to the side and the snake followed. It hissed in surprise as it opened a lazy eye and stared at the rapidly shrinking rock. Will giggled and Merlin made the snake fly higher, letting it circle and spin. The poor reptile squirmed and tried to return to the ground but all it succeeded in doing was ending up upside-down. Arthur gazed in awe as he watched magic being used for something fun and not at all evil. The voice in his head began to speak quieter as Merlin made the snake perform mid-air acrobatics.

Suddenly, a stone sailed through the air and struck Merlin on the forehead, he lost concentration and the snake landed back on its rock with an angry hiss. Both boys looked up, one in anger and the other in pain. Will got to his feet, his small hands bunching into fists, he helped Merlin to his feet and inspected the bruise that was rapidly forming on his forehead. The sun vanished, shadows falling on Will and Merlin as a group of larger teenagers stepped in front of them. The largest, a boy with bulging muscles that would have made Percival bristle, grabbed Merlin by his collar and lifted him off his feet. "Look what we've found, the demon and his friend," he mocked and two of friends surrounded Will. He lifted his fists and punched the closest in the stomach.

"Leave Merlin alone!" he shouted and kicked the other's ankles. They just laughed and twisted his thin arms behind his back in a painfully hard grip. Will yelped and tried to struggle, but he was just a small boy against two much larger, stronger teenagers. They laughed at his feeble struggles until he bit one on the hand. The boy who fell victim to Will's teeth roared in pain before lashing out and striking Will on the back of the head. He crumpled.

"Will!" Merlin yelled, fighting the boy's grip on his collar.

"Now, now little monster, keep still. We wouldn't want you to get hurt too," he said and Arthur got the feeling that the teen was against the idea of not hurting Merlin. He also didn't miss Merlin's flinch at the use of the word monster; the boy didn't miss it either.

"Oh, don't like being called monster eh? What about freak!"

Tears were beginning to form in Merlin's eyes and he went limp in the bigger boy's grip. The group dragged the two friends deep into the woods, where the trees were thick and the foliage blocked most of the sunlight.

"Tie him up," ordered the obvious leader of the group and two of his goons roughly bound Merlin's hands together before doing the same to his ankles. Merlin shook under their grip in terror as they shoved him up against a tree.

"What d-do you w-want with me?" he sniffed and the leader snarled, crushing his throat and blocking his air supply. Arthur leapt forward and tried to pull the teenager off his future manservant. Kileen's voice echoed in his head for the second time, "Young king, you cannot help him, this is just a vision." He halted, centimetres from the bully. Merlin's face was turning a nasty shade of purple and he was gasping like a fish out of water. Will called out to his friend, desperately trying to free himself but his captor's grip was too strong. The teenager released his choking hold on Merlin's throat, letting him drop to the floor. Merlin urgently dragged oxygen into his deprived lungs; the harsh noises sent icy stabs into Arthur's heart as well as a sense of complete helplessness. How could other boys do this to a poor defenceless child? Merlin hadn't hurt anyone with his magic and had only been entertaining himself and Will; why did this result in such harsh treatment?

"Do you know what your kind deserves? Pain," smirked the leader, punching Merlin in the stomach. Arthur heard the precious air leave Merlin's lungs and grimaced at his pained cry. Merlin curled into a ball, trying to protect his head but his bound arms and ankles made it difficult.

"Pain, for what you've done to us normal people, pain for polluting our villages with your feral ways and pain because you're weak," crowed the teen, punctuating each word with a blow to Merlin's fragile form. His friends had joined in now too, kicking the downed boy, aiming for his face and arms. Arthur heard the distinct snap of a rib breaking and Merlin howled in agony, thick tears streaming down his face. Will was screaming now, shrieking for the teenagers to leave Merlin alone but they paid no heed to him as they continued their onslaught of fists and feet. Another crack echoed around the forest as well as several chuckles from the attackers. Merlin screamed. The sound sliced Arthur's heart in two and he sank to his knees, telling himself that the wetness in his eyes weren't tears. He wouldn't cry for a sorcerer. No, but he would cry for a friend.

"Hey Jack, do you think the freak needs his arms?" asked one of the goons, raising Merlin's bound arms. The movement made the boy cry out in pain as his shattered ribs shifted.

"Nah, why would he when he can move things with his mind?"

This was obviously the answer the youth was looking for as he smiled menacingly before slowly inching Merlin's arms up his back. Arthur knew what would happen next as he had used the very same hold on Merlin the first time they met. He turned his head not wanting to see his manservant's agony. The warlock's arms could only bend a certain amount and so with a loud crack they reached their limit, the second popping lost in Merlin's pained scream. The little boy could only deal with so much pain and he passed out, his struggles ceasing. The forest returned to its silence. No bird's singing or animal's usual rustlings filled it and Arthur tried to recall why. A faint memory of a conversation with Gaius one day, entered his mind. The physician had explained that all living things have a sense of the Old Religion and if one of their kin was hurt they wouldn't carry on as normal. He supposed Merlin must count as one of their kin then.

"Let's go, Jack. Someone might have heard his screams, we don't want to get caught," one of the slightly smaller juveniles said, nervously glancing around the area. The others peered at the surrounding bushes and tree trunks but the leader just shrugged.

"Nobody would tell us off for doing it, they would probably thank us for giving this bastard what he deserves," he answered and Arthur opened his mouth in shock. When he, Gwen and Morgana had visited Ealdor it had seemed full of friendly villagers who were eager to assist them. They hadn't seemed at all like the group of youths who were currently beating Merlin to within an inch of his life. The village didn't even lie inside of Camelot's borders, so why did these people hate Merlin?

"It's no fun when he doesn't squawk," muttered another teen, giving Merlin's limp body a vicious kick. "Let's leave, it's getting dark now." Arthur realised that the filtered sunlight was now dimming as the sun slipped lower and lower in the sky. The shadows were growing longer and the cold of night was beginning to seep out of the ground.

"Fine, but give the freak's friend something to discourage him from sticking by the freak's side. Normal people shouldn't mix with the enemy," Jack ordered and began striding off with the rest of the group following. One of the two boys holding Will punched him in the face and threw him to the ground. Will just glared and scurried to his fallen friend's side, ignoring his rapidly swelling eye.

"Merlin? Merlin, wake up," he whispered in a scared voice, gently shaking him by the shoulder. Merlin gave no response. "Come on, it's getting dark and I can't carry you by myself," Will whimpered, his bottom lip wobbling as the light got dimmer. He shook him again less gently this time and it jarred Merlin's abused arms, making him moan and begin to regain consciousness. His eyelids flickered and his brow creased in pain as the aches he hadn't felt deep in unconsciousness made themselves known. Will mumbled Merlin's name again and this time, he got a reaction.

"Will? Is that you?" Merlin croaked, his throat sore from Jack's choking.

"Yes, it's me. Look we have to get you home. Can you walk?"

"Maybe…" Merlin replied, struggling to slide his feet from under him but stopping as pain shot through his battered body. He couldn't move for it. "I don't think I can…"

"You've got to. I can't just leave you here, alone."

"Yes, you can. Go get help. I'll be fine," Merlin pleaded with his friend.

Oh, how Arthur hated than word. Fine. Merlin was never fine; he was always hiding something when he said that.

"But… but…"

"Go," Merlin said, nudging Will with his head and Will stood, wavering on the spot. He bit his lip and looked with worry at his friend's pale features and pained expression. Merlin plastered a grin on his face and repeated his message. Will took one last glance before he sprinted in the direction their captors had taken. The grin faded from Merlin's face and he allowed the shivers, which he had been hiding from his friend, travel along his body.

"Just hold on Merlin," Arthur repeated to himself over and over again as the shivers became more violent and the young warlock couldn't hold his groans in. A blaze of light made him turn from his friend to the last place he had seen Will. He breathed a sigh of relief. He could see torches through the trees and hear voices. Help was coming. Merlin would be alright. The torches and voices were closer now and Arthur could make out silhouettes in the gloom. Hunith rushed towards him, tears flowing down her face and she collapsed at Merlin's side.

"Merlin, oh my darling, please talk to me," she cried, reaching out a hand to brush a stray hair from his face. His eyes fluttered open.

"Mum?" Merlin asked weakly. His fingertips were turning a pale blue and his breathing was shallow and laboured. "It hurts."

"I know darling but help is here. We're taking you home," she shushed and carefully finished untying the ropes that Will's small fingers hadn't been able remove. The skin underneath was red and raw from his thrashings. More people approached, one the woman who Arthur recognised as Will's mother, carrying a makeshift stretcher between them. Two men lifted Merlin onto it, trying to be as careful as possible not to jar his injuries, but there were so many that they couldn't help knocking his arm as they lay him down. The young warlock gasped in pain and Hunith wiped away the tears that spilled out from under his tightly shut eyelids. The solemn party moved away and Arthur followed them, trying to forget his future manservant's screams as those… bullies beat him. He knew they would haunt him for the rest of his life.

The dark forest around him began to blur and flicker before disappearing altogether, transforming back into the Council Chamber in Camelot, but not before Arthur heard Merlin wheeze to his mother, "Am I a monster?" Those words, which should never be uttered by a child of ten, made his stomach churn with anger. If this is what his father had created, it sickened him. To see a helpless child being beaten because he made a snake fly… he didn't want to be part of it. Arthur blinked and gazed at his men who all bore expressions of anger or sadness. It dawned on him then that they had witnessed Merlin's memory as well. Gwen had tears running down her face and Arthur went to move towards her but his limbs refused to co-operate. Kileen's spell was still active. Instead, he locked eyes with his wife, trying to comfort her with a look. She glanced up at him and he realised that she didn't care about the magic, all she had seen was a boy beaten for no reason. A friend whose childhood must have been filled with prejudiced hate and loneliness as other children shunned him.

Leon was frozen, not just by the spell, but in shock. He had a tormented expression on his face and anyone could see that he was questioning the beliefs that had been drummed into him as a knight of Camelot. Those with magic deserve no mercy. The senior knight had killed under that mantra, slaughtered druids because of it and now he had witnessed a pack of teenagers, who didn't even live in Camelot, injure a child. A child who they thought was a freak of nature because he had magic. Although, Leon couldn't help but feel a niggle of fear over Merlin. He had learned as much as he could about magic, so he was better equipped to fight it and Merlin in that memory should not have had it at that age. It wasn't possible… he was a warlock, a boy born with magic.

Gwaine was trembling with rage, his hands fisted by his sides and his expression stormy. He was muttering to himself and Arthur could only faintly hear his words, "those bastards, I'll kill them; I'll kill them for what they did." The knight was remembering all those times when Merlin had helped him deal with his past but he had never given a thought to what Merlin's childhood must have been like. He hadn't even noticed the magic. The flying plates when they had first met, the falling branches; it had been staring him in the face. He should have known.

Percival was staring at Merlin's lifeless form, watching him with such a look of intense sadness that Arthur thought Percival could see into Merlin's very soul. When Kileen walked over and went to nudge the manservant with her foot, he growled at her, a low, threatening noise that would have made the strongest of knights pale. However, she just took a step back and smiled at him.

"Getting protective now are we? I can't say it will help him in anyway when the nest memory starts," she laughed and returned to her seat as the room began to spin. The next memory was beginning.


	4. Chapter 4

A Hidden Past: Chapter 4- Will

 _Chapter 4 – Will_

 _Warning/s: Fighting but no gore_

 _Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin_

 _A/N: Hi guys. Its second vision time! Thank you to all those who have responded to my poll, if you haven't check it out! Help me decide which story I want to start next and I may even start that story while this one is going on because sometimes you need a break from one story._

 _Enjoy!_

 _Many thanks to Cordelia Rose who betaed this!_

* * *

Slowly, Arthur cracked one eye open, nervous as to where he would be this time, but to his shock he was standing in the middle of Ealdor. This time, the buildings were slightly more worn and some had disappeared altogether. Where they had been, new ones now stood: people were milling about around him in shock, their eyes full of wonder and awe. He turned to see what they were staring at and found himself face to face with… himself. That's when he knew which memory he was in, that's when he knew why the spell had taken Merlin back here. Merlin. His manservant was standing a few metres away from him, a sword in one hand and a dead bandit at his feet. He looked younger and more carefree than the Merlin he knew, like a burden had been lifted from his shoulders. Across from him stood another young man with short brown hair and a broad face that was tanned from working in the fields. Arthur knew that face; he recognised the firm set of the mouth that told anyone he didn't know to back off. It was Will. Merlin's childhood friend, the one whom he had last seen during Merlin's brutal attack.

"You still up to the same old magic tricks again? Look, I thought I told you I didn't want your kind around here?" Will said and Arthur gasped: what had changed to make him hate his friend, a friend who he had fought to protect when they were young? Magic, a voice whispered in his mind. Of course Will knew; how could he not have known? Arthur studied Merlin's face for any sign of the hurt his manservant must be feeling as his old friend insulted him. Instead, his face broke into a grin and he wrapped his arms around his friend.

"I miss you, too, Will," he laughed and Will smiled over his shoulder.

"It's good to see you again," Merlin said, releasing his hold on his friend and taking a step back as if to take in how Will had changed.

"How've you been? I hear you're skivvying for some prince," Will teased and Arthur tried not to be offended. He wasn't just some prince anymore; he was the king of Camelot.

"No. I wouldn't say I'm a skivvy," Merlin started to defend himself but was cut off as Arthur called out to him,

"Merlin! Gather the villagers, I need to talk to them."

"Yeah, in a minute. I'm just talking…" Again Merlin was cut off by Arthur's arrogant tones.

"Now, Merlin. There isn't much time."

"Yes, Sire."

The manservant sighed and began heading towards his master's direction. Behind him Will raised an eyebrow as if to say 'if that's not skivvying then I don't know what is'. A crowd was beginning to assemble around Arthur as he started to address them. Future Arthur wasn't listening though, he was too absorbed in his own thoughts to listen to a speech he had already given. He didn't remember sounding so arrogant: Merlin, although he wouldn't admit it to anyone, had cured him of that years ago, having chased away any sign of pomp or snob with his snarky insults or ability to do the exact opposite of what he was supposed to do. Arthur knew though that they weren't the real reason he had stopped being such a prat, it was Merlin's unwavering loyalty that had shocked him out of it. The fact that for once someone was treating him like a normal person, not hanging on to his every word or being nice to him because they wanted to earn the prince's favour. No, here was someone who made him feel human. His thoughts were interrupted as the roars of the assembled villagers broke his concentration. They were willing to die to save their village but not Will. He had sneaked off to his own hut, Arthur noticed this time, and Merlin too had followed him.

Inside, Merlin stopped just inside the doorway while Will carefully sorted some chainmail that bore Cenred's insignia.

"He knows what he's doing. You've got to trust him. Look, when I first met Arthur, I was exactly like you. I hated him. I thought he was pompous and arrogant," Merlin explained to his friend and Arthur felt a warm feeling spread through him at Merlin's confidence.

"Well, nothing's changed there, then," Will replied, shifting the tabard so it wasn't wonky.

"But, in time, I came to respect him for what he stands, for what he does."

"Yeah, I know what he stands for: princes, kings, all men like him," Will hissed. He stopped fiddling with the armour and sat on a wooden bench.

"Will, don't bring what happened to your father into this," Merlin pleaded and Arthur remembered Merlin explaining to him how Will's father had died fighting for King Cenred, how he didn't trust anyone of remembered how Gwaine had been much the same and wondered sorrowfully whether Will would have changed if not for his imminent death.

"I'm not. Why are you defending him so much? You're just his servant."

"He's also my friend." That one word lifted Arthur's spirits; neither of them had ever admitted to each other that they were friends. Maybe more than servant and master, but never that they were friends. Will didn't seem to agree though.

"Friends don't lord it over one another."

"He isn't like that. I trust Arthur with my life."

"Is that so? So, he knows your secret, then? Look, face it, Merlin you're living a lie, just like you were here. You're Arthur's servant, nothing more. Otherwise you'd tell him the truth," Will argued and shoved past him out the hut. Merlin had shut his eyes at this and was slumped against the wall. His fight gone. Arthur glared after Will, he was wrong Merlin hadn't told him because… because… _He never trusted you, he was always planning to betray you_ , the voice in his head murmured. That wasn't true; he just needed the right moment to tell him, not because he didn't trust him. The scene shifted before Arthur could continue arguing with himself.

Now, Hunith was stood behind Merlin who was heading out of the hut, an axe in one hand.

"He must care for you a great deal," she was saying.

"Arthur would do the same for any village. That's just the way he is," Merlin shrugged.

"It's more than that. He's here for you," she carried on, trying to understand why her boy wouldn't accept that fact.

"I'm just his servant," Merlin said and Arthur felt something drop in his stomach at those words. How could Merlin think that, he was way more than just his servant?

"Give him more credit than that. He likes you," Hunith argued and Merlin turned to face her, a sad gleam in his eyes.

"That's because he doesn't know me. And if he did, I'd probably be dead by now." The words stung like icy shards embedding themselves in Arthur's heart. He knew he was angry about Merlin's magic, but he would never have executed him. He didn't know what he would have done, what he would do. He didn't know Merlin as well as he did back then, but he still wouldn't have put him to death.

"You don't really believe that, do you?" Hunith asked, her eyes wide with sadness for her beloved son, but Merlin just walked out of the door. Arthur watched him disappear into the trees, thinking about all the times Merlin had picked him up when his self-confidence shattered and he was ready to give up. He had never even noticed Merlin's struggles. Was he that bad a friend? He gazed at Hunith who was also lost in her own thoughts, sending her only son away to Camelot must have been hard, but he could understand why if men like Kanen terrorised Ealdor regularly. He hadn't realised that the scene had moved until he looked up and almost walked into the wall of Will's hut. He quickly glanced around to see if anyone had seen but realised that no one could actually see him. He felt stupid; he was supposed to be here as part of a sick sorceress's plans, not worrying about his self-image. When he peered in, a wave of anger swept through his body, Will was packing a bag. He was running away like a coward.

"Join us, Will! This isn't about Arthur; this is about your friends. Are you really going to abandon them?" Merlin begged, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. Will shrugged it off and carried on packing.

"What, like you did?" Will shot back and Merlin recoiled hurt by his friend's cold tone.

"I'm here now," Merlin said quietly.

"Yeah. Yeah, you are. And you could end this. If you used your magic, then no one else would have to die," Will replied with passion, slinging his bag over his shoulder. Arthur couldn't help the anger that swept through him as Will mentioned Merlin's magic.

"You know I can't."

"Can't or won't? I'm not the one abandoning these people, Merlin. You are," Will argued, pushing past Merlin for the second time that day. Merlin made no move to stop him.

Arthur watched his friend's torment as he tried to work out what to do. He was pacing, fighting an inner battle, raging as his heart and head conflicted with each other. Arthur watched as the day was replayed in front of his eyes, watching as Merlin did what he did best: restoring Arthur's belief. Watching as Merlin set aside his own problems to help solve Arthur's. Before Merlin, Morgana had been the one to set Arthur on the straight and narrow. He missed her strength and her fiery temper that had made boring meetings much more interesting. She had followed Arthur to Ealdor not for him but for Merlin, a friend who seemed to understand her troubles. They had been something more than friends at one point and Arthur could never understand what had happened to them. After Morgana had been rescued, her and Merlin's relationship had gone downhill. He had witnessed the coldness in Morgana's voice and seen the way she brushed Merlin off every time he had tried to speak with her. It was nice to see her acting like the old Morgana before she had turned to the darkness; she was arguing with him to let the women fight, displaying the compassion and stubbornness he had loved her for. She was the sister he had never had… well, the sister he never knew he had.

The women had stepped forward next to Morgana and Gwen; they wanted to fight for their home, their family and their very existence. He listened to the speech he had given to them, one of very few that Merlin hadn't written for him, he watched as they roared their belief in him to the heavens.

"For Ealdor!" they cried, Merlin's beaming face leading the chants.

Arthur had never given a thought to where Merlin had gone to after the crowd of peasants had dispersed. He had assumed he was off doing… servanty things, but in reality Merlin had returned to his home and his mother, the sources of comfort where he could be himself and not worry about the oncoming battle or his destiny.

Hunith was sitting pensively on a bench by the fire, when Merlin entered and hung his jacket up.

"Come here," Hunith said, looking up at her son with such profound sadness that Arthur wondered how the welcoming woman he had shared a house with was the same person as this dejected lady. Merlin walked over and sat next to his mother who began stroking his face.

"I do love you, my boy," she whispered, gazing forlornly into his azul eyes.

"What's wrong?" Merlin asked, worried at his mother's expression but still managing a small grin.

Hunith dropped her stare to her lap and it was a few seconds before she answered, still not looking at her son,"I should never have gone to Camelot. I've ruined everything for you."

"You haven't. Why would you say that?" Merlin questioned, concerned at his mother's regret.

Hunith raised her eyes back to his. "I know what you're planning to do," she said and Arthur felt confused, what had Merlin done? He had fought like the rest of them but he had done nothing out of the ordinary, nothing that would have him react to Hunith's statement. Merlin sighed and looked into the fire as if the dancing flames would provide him with an answer to his dilemma.

"If it comes to a choice between saving people's lives and revealing who I really am, there is no choice," he mutters, shrugging.

Hunith barely let him finish, "You can't let Arthur know about your gift." At this Arthur realised, the magic. Why was everything to do with magic?! It still made him flinch to hear that word, the word that had caused so much pain and heartbreak in his life, though never from Merlin admittedly.

"Why not? Maybe it's meant to be this way. And if he doesn't accept me for who I really am, then…" Merlin paused as if gathering his thoughts. "He's not the friend I hoped he was." Arthur felt the wave of guilt he had been holding back crash over him. He didn't deserve to call himself Merlin's friend when the boy was prepared to sacrifice himself to save him but he would have considered executing him for who he really was.

It was morning now and Merlin was passing over Arthur's armour, preparing to help him put it on as usual. Arthur stopped him, "No, not today. Put on your own." They both began to dress for battle, strapping on the pieces of metal and losing themselves in their thoughts. Merlin was struggling with the buckle on one of his bracers when Arthur finished. Upon realising this was probably the first time Merlin had put armour on, he began to help, expertly doing it up. He placed a hand on his manservant's shoulder.

"You ready?" He asked.

"My throat's dry," Merlin murmured, not wishing to show weakness in front of his master. Instead of mocking, Arthur surprises his future self by displaying an emotion he rarely showed: empathy.

"Me too." He reached out a hand and Merlin shook it. "It's been an honour." They both turned away from each other and began to sort through weapons. Merlin took a deep breath.

"Whatever happens out there today, please don't think any differently of me," he said and Arthur turned.

"I won't. It's alright to be scared, Merlin."

"That's not what I meant."

"What is it? If you've got something to say, now's the time to say it," Arthur replied, oblivious to Merlin's inner battle which is so obvious to future Arthur. He can see how much Merlin's heart wants him to shout out that he has magic but his head is telling him to shut up. Merlin opens his mouth but Morgana gets there first.

"Arthur. They've crossed the river," she reported and Merlin snapped his mouth shut. It was not the time for his secret to be revealed.

The trio rushed out of the hut towards where the villagers were waiting, sticks and pitchforks in hands. They took their positions, waiting for Kanen and his men to appear. They didn't have to wait long before a large group of men on horseback came charging out of the forest into the seemingly deserted village. They thundered in between the huts, searching for their prey.

"Come out, come out wherever you are," threatens Kanen, trying to lure them out but it was Gwen who reacts, not Arthur. She tugged a rope attached to a hidden gate, trapping the unsuspecting attackers. Morgana was attempting to light a fire to complete the plan but the sparks wouldn't light. Arthur was waiting but nothing happened; he cried out in frustration:"Now, Morgana. What are you waiting for? Something's gone wrong."

Merlin paled and sprinted in Morgana's direction, ignoring Arthur's call. Kanen and his men spotted the manservant running past them.

"There's one. Get him!" Kanen instructed and the mounted archers loosed an arrow. Future Arthur watches in awe as Merlin expertly dodged it, letting it thud harmlessly into an upturned cart. This isn't the first time he has been shot at. Another arrow was fired and again Merlin ducked out of the way, skidding to a halt as he came across Morgana desperately trying to light the fire. Merlin grabbed the flint off her and pretended to use them, but instead whispered _'Baerne'_ under his breath. The straw caught light and a prepared line flamed up, trapping the riders. Arthur, ready and waiting, gave the signal and the villagers charged; the battle was going their way. Morgana and Gwen are fighting side by side, taking down the men. Merlin has beaten two of his own opponents when a third raced towards him. A figure on a rooftop nearby leapt and pushed the attackers to the ground, killing him. Future Arthur gapes as Will gets to his feet.

"I didn't think you were coming," Merlin panted, breathless from the battle.

"Neither did I," Will admitted and the two fight back to back as more of Kanen's men charged at them. At that point,Kanen was winning as villagers were cut down one by one. Will and Merlin stopped to assess the damage and realised this, their faces falling.

"There's too many of them," Will yelled over the battle cries.

"Not for me there isn't," Merlin replied, raising a hand. _'Cume thoden_ ,' he hisses and a whirlwind sprung up, knocking the enemy back and sucking them up. Arthur stopped fighting and watched with an angry glare as the windstorm began to die down, leaving the two closest men, Merlin and Will, unharmed. The remaining bandits began to retreat, running towards the safety of the woods. At least, all except Kanen who emerged from behind a hut, pulling his helmet off.

"Pendragon!" he cries and Arthur broke out of his shock. He raised his sword as Kanen charged towards him, swinging his blade in a cruel arc at his target. Their weapons clashed together as a fierce combat ensued. Arthur was clearly the more skilled of the two as he deflected a hit and drove his sword into Kanen's stomach. Future Arthur feels a sense of satisfaction at seeing Kanen crumple at his past self's feet but it quickly dissolves as he watches himself spin round and glare angrily at Merlin and Will.

"Who did that?"

"What?" Merlin answered and future Arthur can see through his confused façade to the terrified boy beneath. Will stepped subconsciously closer to his friend.

"Wind like that doesn't just appear from nowhere. I know magic when I see it. One of you made that happen," he spat and Arthur laughs humorlessly as he thinks _obviously you don't know magic when you see it as your closest friend has been using it under your nose for years_.

"Arthur…" Merlin began but Will cut him off as he spotted Kanen raising a crossbow and fire. The peasant boy barreled into Arthur, knocking him out of the way. The bolt hit Will in the chest with a sickening squelch. Kanen fell back, dead.

"Will!" Merlin yelled, carefully lowering his injured friend to the ground. He tried to slow the bleeding but it kept pouring out of the wound. Arthur sank to his knees next to them.

"You just saved my life," he murmured to Will and the dying boy grimaced in pain.

"Yeah. Don't know what I was thinking," he gasped out. Arthur seemed to pull himself together and helped Merlin to carry Will inside of a hut. They laid him down on a table and Will struggled to breathe.

"That's twice I've saved you," he panted to Arthur, whose brows scrunched together and a look of confusion entered his eyes, at this statement.

"Twice?"

"Yeah, it was me. I'm the one that used the magic," Will admitted.

Merlin tries to silence him:"Will, don't."

Arthur looked up at Merlin, who wouldn't meet his gaze; he just focused on Will's face.

"It's alright, Merlin. I won't be alive long enough for anyone to do anything to me. I did it. I saw how desperate things were becoming and I had to do something," Will responded, not bothered by Arthur's incredulous look.

"You're a sorcerer?"

"Yeah. What are you going to do? Kill me?" Will laughed sarcastically through his pain.

"No. Of course not. Do what you can for him," Arthur responded in subdued tones before ushering Gwen and Morgana out of the door. Hunith lingered on the doorstep looking at the pair of childhood friends before leaving them alone. Will smiled at Merlin.

"I was right about him. I told you he was going to get me killed," he laughed, even though the spasms caused him even greater pain, and Merlin leant closer to him.

"You're not going to die," Merlin said, trying to mask the shake in his voice.

"You're a good man, Merlin. A great man and one day, you're going to be servant to a great king. Now you can still make that happen," he replied, and future Arthur, who has stayed at the back of the room, smiles at Will's compliment.

"Thanks to you."

Will's breath came in harsh rattles as the crossbow bolt obstructs his airways; Arthur knows he doesn't have long. Will's face began to crease and tears formed in his eyes.

"Merlin. Merlin, I'm scared," he all but whimpered and Merlin also had tears lurking in his eyes.

"Don't be. It's going to be alright," Merlin responded but it did little to comfort his dying friend. Will's whole body was tensed and his face was scrunched up in pain.

"Merlin…" Will breathed before the trembling stilled and the look of pain disappeared from his face, the lines smoothing out and the agonized glint in his eyes fading. Tears trickled down the secret warlock's cheeks as he pined for his lost friend. Arthur too feels the warm wetness in his eyes as he understands Will's sacrifice. He died a noble death protecting a friend.

The memory faded and the earth beneath his feet turned into the hard stone floor of the council chambers. Arthur sunk to his knees and didn't notice that Kileens's spell had been removed until Gwaine barrelled into him. The smaller man raised a fist and punched Arthur in the stomach before drawing it back to hit him again. Arthur breath rushed out of him and he curled over, bringing his hands in front of him to protect his face. Percival grabbed Gwaine's arm and restrained him from hitting the king again. It was then that Arthur noticed what a state Gwaine was in; he was shaking with anger all over and he was on the verge of tears. Percival calmly pulled the angry knight up off Arthur and cradled him to his chest. It was as if a dam had broken because as soon as Gwaine felt the strong, muscled arms of Percival wrapped around him, he sagged and the tears began to fall. Percival just held him in his arms and whispered words of comfort in his ear. Arthur recovered his breath and began to stand before he was barrelled into a second time, this time by Gwen. She buried her face into his shoulder, and he felt her body quiver as she struggled to control the emotions flooding through her.

"He was willing to give up everything for his friends and family," she cried, her words making his heart ache even more in sympathy for his friend. "And we didn't even know." Gwen pulled back from her husband. "What would you have done if he had admitted to being a sorcerer?" she asked, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her dress.

"I don't know," Arthur replied but was interrupted by Gwaine, who had recovered slightly from his earlier attack.

"Yes, you do. You would have banished him at best and executed him at worst," he growled, squirming out of Percival's grip and pointing a finger at him. "He lost his friend because you were too busy worrying about the actions of a sorcerer who just saved a village."

Arthur wanted to reply that those accusations weren't true but he knew they were, deep down he knew that what Gwaine spoke was the truth. He stared over at the forlorn figure hunched on the floor and extracted himself from Gwen. He walked over and knelt beside Merlin, who was sobbing from the pain of his past but still buried deep in the spell that caused him to remain unconscious.

Arthur carefully cradled the thin body of his manservant in his arms and whispered to him, "Forgive me."


	5. Chapter 5

A Hidden Past: Chapter 5- What I would do for you

 _Chapter 5 – What I would do for you_

 _Warning/s: Burns at the end and mild cursing._

 _Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin_

 _A/N: Hi guys.*Peers out from behind chair* Sorry, this chapter took so long to upload but as I said on my other story, I got major writer's block with this chapter. Also, I'm currently preparing for two speaking exams and a drama exam so I have no idea when the next chapter will be written by. Anyway, thank you so much for the lovely reviews you have written, they really brighten my day and I hope this chapter is just as good. Oh, and I thought I ought to mention that I have a list of all the memories I want to include but after those are completed, I will take requests as to any I haven't included that you want me to include. Please check out my Royal Merlin story as well: Meeting his Match too!_

 _Enjoy!_

 _Many thanks to Cordelia Rose who betaed this!_

* * *

Through the haze of confusion, where Merlin couldn't tell memories from reality, he felt sturdy, warm arms encircle his thin frame and two whispered words broke through the roaring in his ears: Forgive me. He knew that voice anywhere. Merlin struggled to drag himself out of the prison his mind had trapped him in but even he- the so-called great Emrys- couldn't break free from the spell. It must have been cast on a sacrifice; those were the most potent enchantments he knew about and almost impossible to break. Already he could feel the drag of the next memory, like an icy claw tugging him into the depths of his brain.

Arthur didn't notice the scenery around him change until his gaze was torn from staring mournfully at his limp manservant by a bone shattering roar. He looked up at the huge, snake-headed beast currently standing a few feet away. Its mouth was wide open, revealing the gleaming jagged teeth inside and there was string of drool pooling by its clawed feet. Arthur would recognise that beast anywhere; it was the Questing Beast. The monster that had nearly killed him. He felt the psychosomatic pain from where it had bitten him and cringed as the past burning sensation pulsed through his body. Turning to look for an exit, he was immediately hit with a staggering wave of déjà vu; he knew this cave, he knew what would happen in this cave and he couldn't stop it. He placed a hand on the slimy walls and took a shuddering breath, attempting to calm the panic threatening to overwhelm him. He had been through this, he had survived and he could do this again. Arthur repeated in his mind as the panic began to retreat but didn't quite leave his mind. A high pitched scream that cut off halfway through made Arthur turn to face the cave entrance, realising that he knew whose mouth the scream had come out of. Sir Bedivere. A strong, courageous man, whose wife had recently given birth to a healthy baby boy. Arthur could remember the man's face whenever he talked about him; it would light up and a soft twinkle would enter his eyes. Unfortunately, he also remembered the heart-wrenching look on Sir Bedivere's wife's face when he had informed her of her husband's death. The image of her crumpling in the doorway had imprinted itself in his mind for weeks afterwards, the look of complete agony on her face. Shaking his head, he brought himself back to reality… or rather the reality of the memory.

Another bone-rattling roar, made him retreat further towards the entrance to the cave, only to feel the sensation of icy water trickling down his spine. Shivering, he turned to see what had caused the feeling and Arthur gasped. He was staring at… himself. There was no mistake; it was like looking in a mirror except that tiny details were missing, a small scar above his eyebrow that he obtained recently and the barely noticeable crookedness to his nose from a duel. Also, as much as he would never admit aloud, especially to Merlin, he was plumper now. So captured by himself was Arthur that he almost didn't move at of the way as Merlin darted forward, in response to the low hissing of the beast. He wanted to cry out, to warn himself that this particular venture would not end well but the rational portion of his mind told him that it was just a memory. The past pair had now moved further into the darkness of the cave and Arthur knew that it was then that he would be struck. He almost didn't watch as the beast slashed him in the chest and sent him flying but he did witness something that he otherwise never have seen: Merlin leaping into action, waving his only weapon, a flaming torch.

"Hey! Hey!" Merlin cried out, moving away from Arthur and gesticulating with the torch. The beast obviously hadn't been able to resist a moving target as it immediately turned away from Arthur's downed form. Present Arthur watched in horror as it got closer and closer and Merlin began to search the area desperately for something to aid him. Finally, the manservant's gaze settled on Arthur's sword, which lay on the ground behind the beast. Arthur snorted, he knew for a fact that Merlin couldn't wield a sword to save his life; he immediately regretted what he thought as the beast continued its approach. Instead of lunging desperately to grab the fallen weapon as Arthur expected, Merlin hissed something he didn't understand under his breath and the sword lifted off the ground. With a forward motion of his arm, Merlin directed the sword to plunge through scale, muscle and bone into the beast's heart. It roared in agony as the breath left its body and its yellowed eyes closed forever. Merlin rushed over to the limp body of his king and gently cradled him in his arms. "It didn't bite you. It didn't," he panted urgently searching his friend for a wound and reeling back in shock as his hand came away smeared in blood. Arthur watched as Merlin yelled for help and pressed his hand against the wound to stem the bleeding but instead of feeling gratitude that his friend had saved him, he felt the beginnings of anger swirl in his stomach. Merlin could have prevented the beast from even touching him with a wave of his hand, had the man been too lazy to help or had he not even cared. _You would have chopped his head off if he had,_ the voice of reason whispered cooling the boiling mass of rage in his stomach. It settled like molten lava cooling off and forming solid rock. He saw several of the knights they had split up from rush into the cave at Merlin's call, and at seeing their leader lying motionless on the ground they leapt into action. And for the first time Arthur saw Merlin become a… leader. He directed one of the knights to fetch his satchel, which was lying at the entrance and instructed the other to maintain constant pressure on the wound while he sorted out which supplies he would need. What was even more astonishing was the way that the knights obeyed him with only a few disapproving looks; even the notorious Sir Farthing did what Merlin requested. Arthur would have smiled at the way that even then, Merlin was changing Camelot, if it wasn't for the fact of course that he was currently dying a few feet away. He vaguely remembered whispered words of comfort and gentle, calloused hands but he had never seen what Merlin had done to keep him alive on the journey back to Camelot.

The scenes began to blur and Arthur could only make out the forest scenery as it slowly changed into the streets of Camelot and finally the interior of the castle itself. Only when the fuzzy outline of Gaius' chambers door appeared did the scene regain its clarity. His past limp body was being carried by palace guards and Merlin was clearing the table with a sweep of his arm. Gaius too was preparing supplies as he got the story out of Merlin. The guards laid the prince on the table and departed leaving Gaius to do what he did best. The elderly physician unwrapped the bandages Merlin had placed around the wound earlier to inspect it and his face became grim.

"He's been bitten," Gaius said solemnly with a quick glance at Merlin's pale face.

"I tried to save him," Merlin explained, panicked at what Gaius was implying with that one look. Future Arthur knew too, he was doomed - or should have been doomed by the poison racing through his bloodstream. "There must be something you can do," Merlin pleaded, desperation leaking into his voice, crying out to the world that he wasn't ready to lose his friend.

"I wish there was," Gaius replied.

"I'll find a cure!" Merlin exclaimed, bolting into his tiny chamber and heaving up a floorboard to reveal an ancient leather-bound book. He yanked it out of its hidden home and dashed back into the main chamber, laying the book on a bench. Gaius spun round in dismay.

"The king will be here any moment!" he warned, still attempting to rouse Arthur from his unconscious state. Merlin ignored his mentor and used magic to flip through the pages.

"He can't die. It is my destiny to protect him. We haven't done all the things we're meant to do," Merlin pleaded and the raw desperation in his voice made Arthur's heart skip a beat. He knew that Merlin would follow him anywhere and risk his life every day to make sure he was safe, but that was true for the present, when he had earned Merlin's loyalty. He had never believed that it was true in the year that they had first met. He groaned when he thought back to all those times he had put Merlin down and acted like a royal… prat. Here he was now watching as Merlin risked being burnt alive for sorcery in order to save him. Merlin was firing spell after spell at his past self's feeble body, with no apparent effect - he remained as limp and pale as ever.

"Maybe the spells need time to take effect," Merlin murmured, but his voice was full of dying hope. Still he looked up at Gaius for reassurance.

"The bite of the Questing Beast is a death sentence no magic can overrun," Gaius replied, watching his ward's heart start to crack and fill with desperation. Both men jumped when the king crashed through the door, eyes stricken with anxiety.

"Where is the prince?! Where is my son?!" Uther demanded, his eyes falling on the dying form of his heir. "Arthur!" he cried out, raising a shaking hand to stroke his sweating cheek. Arthur heard, rather than saw, Merlin close the magic book as he was too focused in examining his father's face. He knew that Uther had loved him; he had proven that when he saved Arthur's life but he had never known how much until he stared into Uther's grief filled eyes now.

"Do something, Gaius!" Uther commanded, his voice raw with unshed tears. For a king must never cry around his subjects.

"I am trying, your majesty and I will do everything in my power to save him," Gaius said quietly, trying to comfort his old friend with hope. Arthur watched with a warm feeling as his father gathered him in his arms and proceeded to carry him out of the door to his chambers. It was similar to a funeral procession that left the chambers. Uther out in front, as always, carrying the dying body of his child in his arms; behind him stood Merlin and Gaius side by side, one set of eyes filled with the knowledge that anything they did would be useless, the other set burning with the grieving determination to do something. Finally, invisible to all the others, future Arthur wandered after them watching as the expressions of passers-by changed to sadness when they saw the procession, he watched as his steadfast father broke down on the cobbles, breaking every rule he had ever taught Arthur about how a king should react. However, in those heart-wrenching moments, Uther wasn't a king anymore, he wasn't a role model for the kingdom; he was just a father, a father mourning the possible loss of his son.

Arthur barely had time to wipe away the wetness in his eyes, telling himself that they weren't tears, before the scene morphed into a cave Arthur had only ever entered once as a lost child. Merlin was standing on an outcrop of rock, staring into the yellow, reptilian orbs of a… dragon. Arthur instantly recoiled; he knew those merciless eyes, he had watched as that beast had wreaked destruction and death on Camelot - and here Merlin was talking to it. Rage ignited deep in his belly: how dare Merlin speak to such a creature, how dare he never tell Arthur about the huge bloody dragon underneath the castle?

"I have failed Arthur, I have failed my destiny," Merlin's heartbroken voice echoed in the silence of the cave. Arthur jumped as the dragon's mouth opened and words began to pour out. Arthur started to listen more intently; destiny kept being mentioned and he wanted to know what they were talking about.

"And yet, you would not be here if that were true," the dragon said, his voice tinted with thousands of years of wisdom. Merlin sighed and raised his haggard face.

"He was bitten by the Questing Beast, he's going to die," he said dismally.

"Does he still breathe?" the dragon asked and Arthur wondered why the beast that had so tirelessly attempted to kill him was trying to save him.

"Only just," Merlin mumbled.

"Then there is still time to heal him," the dragon continued and a spark of hope lighted in Merlin's eyes.

"I have tried but I cannot save him," Merlin said, the hope starting to fade.

"You do not know how to save him." Here Merlin lifted his head and his eyes begged the dragon to tell him. "It will not be easy,"

"I will do _anything_ , just tell me what to do," Merlin breathed and Arthur, against all odds, found himself believing this.

"You must travel to the Isle of the Blessed where the power of the ancients can still be felt; there you must find those who hold dominion over life and death. It is they who possess the ancient magic that the beast was created of, who can cure the young Pendragon. Beware, Merlin - the price will be high," the dragon explained, and Merlin yelled his thanks as he rushed to leave the cave. Arthur's head was beginning to spin at the amount of occasions the visions he was seeing skipped time and moved from different sections. It was disorientating to say the least and it didn't help that his thoughts were following suit, bouncing from one argument to the next in his mind. Was Merlin evil? Was Merlin good? He thought that he had sorted it out but he wasn't sure anymore. Arthur felt like he didn't know his… best friend any longer. Because as much as Arthur would deny it in front of others, Merlin was his best friend, the first person to treat him as himself rather than royalty.

By the time Arthur surfaced from his muddled thoughts, Merlin was sitting in a boat being propelled by invisible forces across the misty surface of a lake. The atmosphere was silent, like the world was holding its breath and all the living creatures were watching with wide eyes. The boat approached the crumbling ruins of a fortress and weaved in between the fallen arches before docking beside a partially intact doorway. Merlin stepped out and began to head towards the centre of the island, hands nervously pulling at the loose frays of thread on his tunic. He walked out into a clearing with a stone table in the centre which was surrounded by jagged stone pillars. A cup was sitting on the table but otherwise the clearing was devoid of any other signs of life.

"Hello?" Merlin called out, his voice echoing eerily off the stones.

"Hello, Merlin," Nimueh replied, clad in her usual tattered red dress and with a pleased smirk on her face. Merlin jumped and backed away a few paces. Arthur too was surprised; she was the girl who had tried to kill him on his quest to save Merlin.

"You," he hissed, eyes taking on a cold look. Nimueh took a step towards him, beaming that awful smirk. "You tried to kill me," Merlin continued.

"Before I understood your importance," she answered.

"And Arthur," Merlin pointed out, still understandably untrusting of her.

"Arthur was never destined to die at my hand, and now it seems I will be his salvation," Nimueh said, a knowing look entering her mocking eyes.

"So you know what I've come to ask?" Merlin questioned, receiving a nod in answer. "Will you do it?"

"I do not have the power to mirror life itself and yet give nothing in return," Nimueh replied.

"I know that a price will be asked," Merlin said and his voice didn't waver. Arthur unconsciously stepped closer to his manservant, knowing in his gut that the price wouldn't be a few gold coins.

"To save a life, there must be a death. The balance of the world must be restored," Nimueh explained and for a split second Merlin's mask broke, revealing how much he wanted to live.

Arthur gasped, it wasn't possible: Merlin was still alive in the future.

"I willingly give my life for Arthur's." Those few words sent a dagger into Arthur's chest and his uncaring façade shattered. He had always known that Merlin would give his life to protect him, he had proven it enough times but hearing him actually say it aloud overwhelmed Arthur. He didn't deserve such pure loyalty from someone.

"How brave you are, Merlin. Once you enter into this bargain, it cannot be undone," Nimueh mocked, as if Merlin's sacrifice wasn't extraordinary.

"Whatever I have to do, I will do. His life is worth a hundred of mine," Merlin answered strongly and Arthur wished he could force those words back into Merlin's mouth. For they weren't true, he wanted to scream it to the world, that they weren't true.

"The Cup of Life, blessed by centuries of powerful sorcerers so that it contains the very secret of life itself. If Arthur drinks water from the cup, he will live," Nimueh explained, passing the golden cup to Merlin, who gingerly grasped it in his hands. Nimueh called out a spell and rain began to pour out of the newly blackened skies, drenching Merlin and filling the cup up. Nimueh took the cup back and carefully poured the water inside into a flask.

"The bargain is struck. I hope it pleases you."

Arthur was filled with a sense of dread; Merlin hadn't dropped dead in front of him and his manservant had travelled all the way back to Camelot alive.

So when would the life be taken?

* * *

Merlin and Gaius rushed into Arthur's chambers and Merlin tenderly lifted Arthur's head to allow Gaius to pour the water down his throat. Arthur watched as they both held their breath as he swallowed the water, hoping that miracles did happen. It was then that Uther strode into the room, a desolate expression on his face.

"What are you doing, physician? What are you giving him?" the King asked, a small flicker of hope crossing his face. Gaius' head shot up and he stared at Uther, trying to hide his surprise.

"It's a… It's a tincture made from the Lobelia plant, an ancient remedy for poisonous bites," Gaius lied, praying that the king's lack of knowledge concerning herbs wouldn't force him to lie anymore. The little voice that Arthur had been fighting to silence piped up _it appears that lying is a common trait in sorcerers, even ex-ones._ He tried to ignore it. Gaius had been the one he had run to, crying as a child to bandage his wounds and soften the harsh words of the older knights. The elderly physician had soothed his disappointment when his father ignored his achievements and made the young prince feel unloved.

"A cure?" Uther's voice rang out full of hope but also the fear of false hope.

"We hope," Gaius said, turning away from his king to carry on administering the 'tincture'. Uther walked over to the bed by Gaius, and his tired eyes roamed over the limp body of his son; for all his cold composure he did love Arthur.

"Do you really think that it will have some effect?" Uther questioned his eyes wide and pleading.

"It is our last resort, Sire," Gaius said calmly, knowing that the cure would indeed work but fearing the consequences. He tipped the flask up and the last dregs of water flowed into Arthur's mouth. Gradually, the colour began to return to Arthur's skin and his laboured breathing evened out. Gaius took the prince's pulse and nodded at Merlin. "The Prince lives," Gaius stated and Uther's expression lifted, revealing the joy he felt and was failing to hide. Merlin crumpled against the headboard in relief and for one horrible second Arthur thought that the enchantment had begun to take Merlin's life but his manservant continued to breathe. Uther sank into the empty chair and grasped Arthur's hand, now without its unnatural hotness and began to stroke the knuckles with his thumb. Sensing that they were intruding, Gaius and Merlin quietly padded out of the room.

* * *

They entered their shared chambers in uncommon silence, Merlin sinking into a chair and breathing out in relieved gasps as he smiled up at Gaius. The physician stood by the closed door with a worried expression that quickly sobered up Merlin's joy. He lowered his head and the grin slid off his face as the reality of the situation hit him, Arthur wanted to wrap his manservant in a hug if it would replace the grin on his face. Merlin looked so… wrong when he was sad. The pair didn't say a word as they ate supper, neither commenting on the fact that it was Merlin's favourite and they stayed up long past when they would usually have retired, just sitting opposite each other. Finally, Merlin stood and slowly walked towards his room as if stepping into his room marked his crossing of the point of no return. Gaius watched him go with a mournful expression, not offering any last words of wisdom or a fatherly hug… just watching with tired eyes. Arthur too, watched as Merlin sank onto his bed and stared around his small room as if he was memorising each and every detail: the clothes strewn on the floor, the overflowing collection of neckerchiefs bursting from a drawer and the window where moonlight streamed through. Sighing, Merlin shut his eyes and Arthur waited for the gentle rise and fall of his manservant's stomach to cease… it didn't. The moonlight turned to the fiery colours of dawn and then to the warm glow of daylight. Merlin twitched and opened his eyes in surprise, unsure if he was still in this world. He shot up and pulled the door open to see if Gaius was with him.

"Gaius, I'm alive!" Merlin exclaimed, bursting into the main chamber, but stopping as he noticed Gaius kneeling next to a sprawled figure. He walked forwards but Gaius called out to him, "No, Merlin. Don't."

Merlin paid no attention and finally caught sight of the prone figure, Arthur peering over his shoulder. The woman was covered with blistering boils and breathing harshly as if each breath pained her. There was something familiar about the woman and Merlin's cry confirmed it:

"Mother."

Arthur reeled as Merlin begged Gaius to do something, anything to make his mother better. Merlin's mother was going to die to save his past self, the one person who cared about Merlin the most. She didn't deserve to die for Merlin's sake; he wasn't worth her death or anybody's for that matter. Now he understood Uther's grief and his anger at magic, if this was how he was born and his mother died then he wanted nothing to do with magic. Anything that caused this was cruel and malicious.

By now, Merlin was sprinting down the corridor that led to the Great Dragon's prison, a flaming torch in hand. Kilgharrah landed on his usual outcrop and didn't seem to understand the anger radiating off Merlin.

"You knew this would happen! You had me trade my mother's life for Arthur's," Merlin shouted accusingly and the dragon looked unfussed.

"You said that you would do anything," he replied, causing Merlin to seethe with barely controlled rage, Arthur too was livid. How dare the beast willingly cause Merlin that kind of pain?

"Did you know my mother would die?" Merlin asked, already knowing the answer.

"I knew that the price would be a heavy one," Kilgharrah replied, skirting the subject with a vague answer.

"So you had me murder my mother," Merlin hissed, the deadly quality to his voice unnerving.

"We need Arthur to live. Your destiny is to protect the young Pendragon until he claims his crown, and when he does, magic can be returned to the realms. Only then will I be free," Kilgharrah said and his voice had a touch of wistfulness in it. It was the wrong thing to say.

"Oh. So that's all you cared about, your freedom. You had me murder my own mother!" Merlin said and his voice was low and bitter. Even though Arthur knew he was in a memory he still took a step backwards. Merlin's eyes shone with barely withheld tears. "For that I will make sure you never see the light! I will never release you," he vowed and Kilgharrah let forth a bellow of rage, sending out a wave of fire that glanced off Merlin's hastily constructed shield. The warlock turned from where he was standing, tears now flowing freely down his face. "You won't be seeing me again," he whispered and stalked out of the cave.

* * *

Shakily Merlin sank down onto a rickety stool by the fire, opposite Gaius, who watched his ward with quiet concern. Neither of them mentioned the tears or the slightly singed quality to Merlin's clothing. They just sat in silence, Merlin with his head bowed as if the weight on his shoulders was too much to bear. Arthur wanted to leave and skip over this memory; it felt like he was intruding on Merlin's privacy as his manservant slowly cracked beneath his gaze. Finally, Merlin raised his head and stared up at Gaius.

"I have to save her," he said simply.

"You cannot," Gaius replied and the response clearly pained the physician, whose purpose was to save lives.

"If the balance of the world needs a life, then Nimueh must take mine. I will return to the island," Merlin said desperately as his mother's harsh coughing filtered through the door of his room.

"No, Merlin. You are young. Your gifts, your destiny are far too precious to sacrifice," Gaius softly argued, reaching out to grasp Merlin's sleeve as the young man rose. The quiet plea made Arthur gasp at the loyalty and true bond the pair shared; he had known that Gaius thought of Merlin as a son but he had never realised how strong their connection was.

"My destiny? This is my mother. My powers mean nothing if I can't save her. You have taught me so much, who I am, the purpose for my skills but most of all you have always taught me to do what is right," Merlin responded and Arthur noticed that Gaius' eyes had tears pooling in them.

"Merlin…" Gaius called softly as Merlin stood up, hastily brushing a sleeve across his own damp eyes.

"I need to say goodbye to Arthur," Merlin mumbled, moving out of the room.

Arthur remembered this conversation well; it had always struck him as a mental lapse on Merlin's part, which he had considered a reasonable explanation at the time considering Merlin's past record, but in the back of his mind he had detected the quiet desperation in his manservant's voice. Now, hearing the conversation again the meaning was completely clear to him; the parting words of his friend as he left to… die were dripping with Merlin's personality. The slight comic awkwardness on the surface but underneath an intensity that made you feel as if an ancient philosopher had spoken. He watched as Merlin quietly exited the room and returned to the physician's quarters, preparing a bag to travel to the Isle of the Blessed with. All through Merlin's preparation and heartfelt conversation with his mother, Arthur couldn't understand how Merlin was still alive. He saw no way that Merlin could have avoided dying but with the amount of magic his manservant apparently possessed, he hoped that there had been a way. There must have been. The light in the tiny room shifted as dusk turned to midnight and then to the fiery colours of the dawn. Merlin woke and, with a steely expression on his face, kissed his mother goodbye and went to say his farewells to Gaius, but the old man wasn't in his bed. A small folded note lay on the bench and for one full second, Arthur's heart stopped. The man who had practically raised him and taught him how to be just and good had gone. The steadfast physician who was as constant as the stone castle walls had left to give his life for Merlin's. Arthur cried out almost in unison with Merlin in the past as they both rushed to exit the room, one in the past, one in a memory.

Arthur took one step forward and felt the hard, stone floor change to grass and he knew that the memory had skipped the journey. It was a small mercy to avoid watching Merlin's journey as he knew that the young man would not have rested, eaten or slept once on it. He watched in horror as Gaius sagged against the stone altar and Nimueh raised the Cup of Life, chanting as she did so only to be interrupted by Merlin's pained shout. The exhausted warlock sprinted towards the centre of the ruins and confronted the high priestess.

"Have you killed him?" Merlin said, his voice shaking with emotion. Nimueh cocked an eyebrow.

"It was his wish," she said plainly as if a man's life had not just been taken.

"I bid my life for Arthur's, not my mother's, not Gaius," Merlin snapped, taking a step toward his mentor as if he could will the life back into his body.

"The Old Religion does not care who lives or who dies! Only that the balance of the world must be upheld, Gaius knew this," Nimueh replied with a nonchalant expression.

"It is not the Old Religion who has done this, it is you!" Merlin accused rounding on the priestess and shooting a blast of magic at her. Arthur almost snorted if the situation hadn't been so serious; trust Merlin to go attacking a high priestess. Nimueh just absorbed the attack with a smug smirk on her face.

"Your childish tricks are useless against me. I am a priestess of the Old Religion and you too are a creature of the Old Religion. You should join me!" Nimueh said calmly, reaching out a hand.

Merlin's eyes narrowed and Arthur had never seen him look so angry.

"You are wrong to think that I would join with such selfish and cruel magic!" he shouted back and Nimueh's smile didn't falter.

"So be it! _Acwele_ ," she roared and a fireball soared towards Merlin, striking him fully in the chest, burning a hole through his thin shirt. The warlock's pale exposed skin sizzled and an inflamed scorch mark was visible through the charred hole. Merlin gasped for breath as Nimueh approached his prone form, pausing to stare down at him with disdain.

"Pity; we could've ruled the world together, Emrys," Nimueh sneered, raising her hand to finish him off. Arthur lunged, even though the logical aspect of brain was screaming at him that this was a memory and that he couldn't do anything to save him manservant. It was overruled by the rest of him, which was screaming for him to do something, anything to help his friend. Arthur shot through Nimueh's body and staggered as his strike went through air; he turned just in time to see Merlin stand.

"You should not have hurt my friend," he hissed, eyes flaring gold as the clouds above Nimueh flashed with lighting that engulfed her body in electricity. The smell of charred flesh filled the air as the dying sorceress disintegrated under Merlin's power.

The vision unexpectedly faded.

When Arthur opened his eyes, he was met with Kileen's sobbing form backing away from Merlin's writhing body. Her broken words were just audible over the loud hiccupping cries she was producing.

"Oh gods… oh gods… he's Emrys. I'm doomed!" Kileen wailed, crumpling to the floor as Merlin lurched to his feet, the spell momentarily broken.


	6. Chapter 6

A Hidden Past: Chapter 6- Freya

 _Chapter 6 – Freya_

 _Warning/s: Character death_

 _Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin_

 _A/N: Hi guys. I am so so so so so so sorry that this took so long to update but I really wanted to do this chapter the justice it deserves. Also, I have had this chapter half written for months but have been unable to finish it due to really bad writer's block. I hope that you all enjoy it and thank you to all of you who have stuck with this story._

 _Enjoy!_

 _Many thanks to Cordelia Rose who betaed this!_

* * *

Arthur watched as Merlin straightened, his eyes glowing a fierce gold which seemed to pulse and swirl in his irises. His raven hair was plastered to his forehead and his chest heaved; but Merlin stood strongly.

"You chose the wrong person to cast that spell on, Kileen," Merlin hissed and the anger in his voice caused the bravest of the knights of Camelot to take a step back. Kileen cowered, desperately searching for somewhere to run, but finding herself trapped in his golden gaze.

"This kingdom is under my protection; I thought I had made that perfectly clear. Nobody touches Arthur or his men while there is still breath in my body," Merlin continued, taking another step towards the whimpering witch. His steps echoed in the silence and the only other noise was his harsh panting, almost as if he had run miles instead of just getting up from the floor.

"I'm… s-sorry, my lord. I w-would have n-never cast it on you, I swear," Kileen pleaded, on her knees now as Merlin continued towards her. Arthur thought for a moment that she was apologising to him due to the "my lord" but when her stare didn't waver from Merlin, he quickly discarded that theory. Merlin wasn't a prince or even a noble, so why was she addressing him as such?

"Unfortunately, you did and it was a particularly nasty spell at that. Do you think I haven't realised that this spell feeds off emotions, especially negative ones, and that it normally drives the victim to insanity?!" Merlin whispered, his voice full of ice. Arthur flinched. Insanity. How much of his worst memories did a man have to experience before his mind couldn't take it anymore?

"In fact, right now, I am having to fight the next memory because I want to have at least a few seconds of my life where I can look at the people I care about as I truly am," Merlin said, turning to face Arthur, Gwen and the knights. He took a step to walk towards them but his knees gave out and he crashed to the ground, causing Gwen, the nearest person to him, to spring forward and catch him. She no longer cared that he had magic; all she wanted was her friend to be free from the spell, which was causing him so much anguish. Her arms shook with the effort of holding his limp body but her movement seemed to break the invisible bonds that were keeping the others still. They rushed towards the pair and Arthur helped his wife lower Merlin to the floor. The warlock gasped and opened his eyes, maintaining some control over the spell.

"I-I'm sorry. I should… h-have told you," he panted, trying to find the energy to keep himself from being dragged into the next memory. Gwen stroked his ruffled hair and tried to smooth the creases from his forehead.

"There is nothing to forgive, Merlin. You would have been killed if you hadn't lied," she whispered soothingly, feeling some tension release from his shoulders. Merlin smiled at her, showing his gratitude when words failed him. He raised a shaking hand and placed it over hers, squeezing lightly. Arthur watched the fond exchange and tried not to let tears leak out of his eyes. It was like they were saying goodbye and he wouldn't allow that.

"No, Merlin, you are not going to go… insane. I won't allow it," he commanded petulantly, sounding like he was a child demanding his toy back. Merlin chuckled weakly as his eyes flickered shut.

"I never do what I'm told, prat," he mumbled, going limp as he lost the battle with the spell. Gwen cradled his body and sobbed, burying her face in his shoulder as if she thought her tears would bring him back. Arthur placed his arm around her and tried to offer her some semblance of comfort as they mourned their friend, not expecting him to ever be the same again.

* * *

Arthur didn't want to look around when he felt the faint breeze that a memory beginning caused; he didn't want to see anymore of Merlin's memories, not when they were going to cause his friend harm. He felt the coldness of night start to seep through his clothes and the hard cobbled surface beneath his knees but still he refused to look up, until he heard the unmistakable voice of his manservant speak.

"Gaius," Merlin said, breaking the still silence of the evening. Arthur's head snapped up and he took in his surroundings. They were in Camelot, the lower town outside one of Gwaine's favourite pubs: The Rising Sun. The wind whistled through the eaves causing the weather-beaten sign to creak and sway; bright lights filtered out of the windows, lighting up the street outside. The cobbled stones were muddied and littered with puddles. However, all of these things were minor details compared to the rickety cage that took up most of the street and the soaked girl who slumped inside.

Merlin was staring at the bedraggled girl inside with confusion. Gaius turned to see what had caught Merlin's attention and looked with pity upon the girl.

"She's fallen prey to a bounty hunter," he explained tiredly.

"She's only a girl," Merlin stated in confusion. Arthur shook his head; he had hated watching bounty hunters drag whatever unfortunate soul they had captured up in front of the king for a few bags of gold.

"She'll still fetch a good price, though. Uther offers handsome rewards for anyone with magic," Gaius continued, turning away from the girl in the cage as if he could not bear to look for any longer.

"There must be something we can do," Merlin pleaded, his eyes never leaving the girl's dirtied face. Gaius turned back to face his ward.

"Merlin, bounty hunters are dangerous men. They're not to be meddled with. You of all people should know that," he said sadly with a slight note of worry evident in his face. Merlin still didn't look away from the girl and Arthur got the sensation that he was planning something, something stupid and idiotic but noble. He wasn't wrong as the scene shifted slightly; Gaius disappeared and the sky darkened further.

Merlin gripped the iron bars with both hands and peered in at the girl then his face brightened with his cheerful grin.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you," he whispered, moving around to the cage door and raising a hand. He whispered a spell and the lock of the cage sprang open with a jingle of chains. The girl sprang back and pressed herself into the corner of the cage, fearing his motives. Arthur felt a pang of pity at what had caused the girl to be so afraid, especially of someone so harmless looking as Merlin. Although Arthur was beginning to doubt how harmless Merlin actually was as he broke the manacles around her wrists with just a few words.

Together they jumped out of the cage with Merlin carefully lifting the girl down and dragging her behind the wheels of the wagon. Seconds later, the door to the inn opened and the bounty hunter stepped out, mindlessly picking at a piece of food stuck in his teeth. Arthur held his breath as the bounty hunter finally noticed his prey had escaped and drew his sword. Merlin's eyes darted around the deserted street for some way to get himself and the girl to safety, they finally settled on the swaying sign for the inn.

" _Ic bebiede pis giestarn taken fielan,"_ Merlin whispered, causing the chain of the sign to break and hit the bounty hunter on the head with a resounding thud. Arthur almost winced in sympathy for the man as he collapsed like a sack of potatoes but he was too busy trying to work out where he knew the druid girl from. He had an awful niggling sensation at the back of his mind that whoever the girl was she was dangerous, but the memory refused to become any clearer than that. By the time he had properly focused on the memory, the bounty hunter was groggily getting to his feet just in time to see two figures disappearing into the distance.

The memory jerked as it went from a moonlit street to the pitch darkness of a stone passageway illuminated by a flickering torch, grasped in Merlin's hand. Arthur was forced to run after the memory version of Merlin as the couple sprinted through the maze of tunnels until they finally stopped by an alcove. Arthur paused and tried to regain his bearings; he took in the area around him, realising that they were underneath the castle. Merlin's voice broke him out of his ponderings.

"Here," his manservant said, offering the girl his jacket. Arthur smiled at the gesture but his expression dropped as soon as the girl flinched away, pressing her body closer to the stone wall. How could anyone be afraid of Merlin? He was well… Merlin, the least threatening person alive. Arthur suddenly paused in his train of thoughts: Merlin was also a sorcerer. His mind skidded to a halt and he shook his head vigorously - no, he would not go down that route.

He raised his eyes once more to the scene in front of him as the girl continued to keep hers lowered.

"Sorry. Sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you. I just thought you might be cold," Merlin softy explained to the girl as she wrapped her arms around her body. Arthur winced at her nervousness; what had she been through to react like that?

"Why did you help me?" the girl finally asked, meeting Merlin's eyes for the first time, and Arthur heard the note of mistrust in her voice as clear as day.

"Well, I saw you and… it could've been me in that cage," Merlin said, causing Arthur to clench his fists at the thought. He would have never allowed that to happen nor would he allow it now. He had never thought of it particularly before but every person in those cages was an individual with a life, a story, a family.

"You'll be safe down here. I'll come back in the morning with some food and candles. Will you be alright till then? I'm Merlin, by the way," Merlin continued, still allowing the frightened girl some space. Arthur smiled as Merlin's signature grin caused the girl to smile back, albeit shyly. That smile could cause the sternest of castle cooks to melt and even had Gaius under its spell occasionally.

"Freya," she replied, allowing him to hand her his jacket, which was quickly wrapped around her bare shoulders. Merlin's smile widened and he moved off towards the exit.

"I'll see you in the morning… Freya," he said, pronouncing her name as if it were a pleasant gift to be able to speak it. Arthur chuckled to himself as he recognised the familiar gleam that lit up Merlin's eyes when Freya thanked him, a gleam he had first noticed in the mirror when he had kissed Gwen.

Merlin had been in love with this girl.

Abruptly, his whole world froze as the niggling sensation returned but this time brought with it a proper memory, a memory of a black winged beast that had once been a girl in a tattered red dress captured by a bounty hunter. He vividly remembered slicing a wound into the beast's front leg where it connected to the body and the desire to kill the beast so it couldn't strike again. Arthur found himself praying that the strike hadn't been fatal, that he hadn't… killed the girl that Merlin loved. The realisation brought him to his knees as the weight of what he had done crashed down upon him. There was no point lying to himself; the swing had been fatal and he had killed Merlin's love. Unless Merlin had managed to heal her; he was an all-powerful warlock, after all. Maybe he had managed to heal the wound before it killed her and that's why he had never seen Merlin with another woman, because Freya was still alive and she just didn't have a job in the castle like Merlin did. Arthur shot to his feet in relief and continued to witness the memory, hoping against hope that Freya had survived.

Past Merlin brushed by where Arthur was standing and carefully laid the items he had with him on the ground so as not to wake the sleeping form of Freya. He smiled at the peaceful expression on her face and almost looked regretful at having to wake her up. Arthur smiled as a fond memory of doing the same thing but with Gwen came to the forefront of his mind.

Gingerly, Merlin reached forward and laid a hand on her bare arm causing Freya to start awake, shuffling as far away as possible from Merlin. She cowered in the corner of the archway, her legs still covered by Merlin's jacket.

"It's all right. It's okay, it's me, Merlin," Merlin hastily said, his tone as soft and kind as possible as if he was speaking to a frightened animal. Arthur recalled hearing this same tone used on the horses when they had been panicked by a fire in the stables.

"And look," Merlin continued, gently placing the cloth bundle in front of her and unwrapping it, revealing the meat, cheese and white bread inside. Arthur spluttered indignantly; he remembered that food, it was identical to what he had for breakfast. A sudden memory appeared in the front of his mind, one of a new breakfast menu and a desire to keep him fighting fit. The idiot had stolen his breakfast. Arthur grumbled unhappily to himself but he felt his irritation dissipate at the look of amazement in Freya's eyes, a look of someone who had never seen such good food.

Freya hastily grabbed the bread and began stuffing it as fast as she could into her mouth. Arthur wondered if she even had time to chew it before it was swallowed down. He turned his gaze from the ravenous girl to Merlin, who was watching her with an odd expression. It looked like he wanted to make sure that she always ate this well for the rest of her life, not having to worry about where the next meal was coming from. It made Arthur realise just how sheltered his own life had been. He had never worried about food or clothing, he had assumed that everyone was able to make do until Merlin came into his life. He realised that his bumbling servant had shown him the injustices of the world, taught him more about being a great king than his father.

"It's good," Freya's shy voice piped up, having finished her current mouthful to stare at where Merlin was placing the candles he had brought. He smiled at her.

"Believe me, it's fit for a prince," he responded, the truth in his words not lost on Arthur, who glared without any real heat at the image of his manservant. His glare melted into a look of childish wonder as he watched said servant light the candles with a wave of his hand. He almost expected Freya to shy back from the magic as most people in Camelot would have done but she just carried on with her meal. Arthur wondered how many times Merlin had lit his own room's candles like that; it was certainly easier than using a splint.

"Is that a druid symbol?" Merlin asked curiously, drawing Arthur's gaze from the flames to the curled tattoo on her arm. Freya nodded silently. "Were you born a druid?" Merlin continued to question, looking confused. Freya glanced up defensively.

"Why are you asking me all these questions?" she responded, not answering his question.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to," Merlin said, clearly reigning in his curiosity. There was a pause in the conversation, Freya still mistrustful of Merlin, not willing to reveal anything about herself that personal yet. It made Arthur's heart ache for her that she had been so betrayed that she couldn't trust one of the most trustworthy people he knew. _Except that he lies and has magic_ , the voice in the back of his mind traitorously whispered but Arthur ignored it.

"I'm sorry," Freya quietly apologised but Merlin didn't seem at all offended by her mistrust.

"I understand. I know what it's like to keep secrets," he responded sympathetically, his eyes gaining a weary look like someone who has lived for a very long time.

"You could never understand. Does anyone know you have magic?" Freya said and Arthur realised that she wasn't talking about being a druid; she was talking about her curse. He winced; did Merlin know about it when the bodies started to appear?

"Only you. And one other person. He knows, but I'm not sure he understands," Merlin answered wistfully and Arthur knew that he was talking about Gaius. It must have been hard to only be yourself around one person. He had always had Morgana to be himself around and then Merlin but him acting like a real person wouldn't have got him executed like Merlin.

"I wish I was like everyone else, but…" Freya started to say.

"You always know, deep down, you're not?" Merlin finished with a grin.

"Because I'm cursed," Freya said, looking away in shame. Merlin winced as if visibly pained by her statement.

"Freya, don't say that. Magic doesn't have to be a curse. It can be a gift," Merlin pleaded, his desperation for her not to sink into self-loathing clear. Arthur wished he could tell his past friend's self that Freya wasn't talking about magic being a curse. He could almost sense Merlin's own self-loathing bubbling under his surface as he sighed in frustration.

"Look…" Merlin said softly, switching tactics. He muttered a spell and the flickering candle flames delicately lifted off their wicks, still burning. Arthur let out a breath of wonder as he watched them float higher under Merlin's careful control.

Freya's expression mirrored his own as she was entranced by his beautiful display of magic.

"Beautiful," she breathed and Arthur got the sense that if it had been any other magic user's spell, it might not have been so breath-taking to them. However, this was Merlin and his magic seemed so much purer than, what Arthur assumed, others to be. Something to ask the man when this was all over. _If he was still sane then_ , the voice in the back of his mind hissed and Arthur shuddered at the thought of losing his best friend. He was so wrapped up in his depressing feelings that he almost missed the intense stare the two shared as Merlin released his control over the flames.

"I have to go. Someone might notice I'm missing. But I-I'll come back, and I'll bring you some more food. I promise," Merlin said quietly, breaking the atmosphere that had developed between them and Arthur realised that Merlin was promising so much more in those two words than just more of his breakfast. Freya smiled and watched him disappear with a sad look of mourning on her face as if she wished for the relationship that had started to develop but knew she couldn't have.

As the scene faded away, Arthur remembered a confrontation that he had walked in on between Merlin and Halig. He had been looking for his manservant when raised voices had grabbed his attention, the bounty hunter had been about to hit Merlin when he had appeared. The man had accused Merlin of hiding the girl and Arthur had not believed Merlin capable of it. How wrong he had been. He forced himself to focus on the new image in front of him.

Freya was huddled against the wall when the memory shifted again and was subtly trying to wipe her eyes that had the slight reddened quality of someone who had been crying.

"I'm sorry I took so long. You must be hungry. What is it?" Merlin apologised cheerfully before noticing the redness.

"Nothing," Freya quickly replied, pasting a smile on her face in an attempt to hide her sadness.

"But you're upset," Merlin continued, his voice low with concern.

"No," Freya denied, not meeting his worried gaze.

"Did you think I wasn't coming? But I promised you I would," Merlin asked, his eyes spotting the truth in his statement before she responded. Arthur hoped that in Camelot currently there weren't any people suffering like Freya had, who were so scared of abandonment and had been betrayed by so many that they no longer trusted. He hoped that he had changed Camelot for the better.

"I scare most people away," Freya finally said, causing Arthur to wince in the knowledge that it wasn't the timid druid girl who terrified people but the murderous black beast.

"I'm not most people. How long had you been in that cage?" Merlin replied with a grin, settling himself in a more comfortable position opposite Freya. Arthur smiled to himself, Merlin was indeed not most people; most people would have turned the girl in for a reward or run away terrified. Or stabbed her like he himself did, Arthur thought to himself.

"A few days," Freya answered quietly, her eyes taking on a haunted look.

"And the bounty hunter, how did he find you?" Merlin questioned, idly rubbing his arms and Arthur suddenly remembered interrupting Halig interrogating Merlin, finding his manservant held down about to be struck. He wondered what would have happened if he hadn't been looking for the bounty hunter; Merlin would never have given Freya up. He was far too loyal for that.

"You can't always trust people," Freya responded to Merlin's question with a wry smile.

"I know. That's why I left home," Merlin said, sharing the smile and Arthur realised that they understood each other, the constant fear of who would be able to keep their secrets, always having to look over their shoulders. Merlin had suffered because of people; Arthur remembered the boys in Merlin's childhood who had beaten him so badly.

"Where is home?" Freya asked, picking at the food Merlin had brought her.

"Ealdor. It's a small village. Just a few fields, a couple of cows. Nothing special," Merlin said brightly, shrugging.

"My home was next to a lake surrounded by the tallest mountains. In the winter, the storms whipped up the water into waves and you thought they were going to crash down and take away all the houses. But in the summer, wild flowers and light. It was like heaven." Freya described, her eyes misting over as she spoke, her face lighter and more relaxed. Arthur could see why Merlin loved her.

"But my family died," Freya finished, her face tensing and her eyes losing their sparkle.

"You're not on your own anymore. I'm going to look after you. I promise," Merlin swore and Arthur couldn't bear to look much longer, knowing that he would be the cause of Merlin's failure to make that promise come true.

"You can't look after me. No one can," Freya answered quietly, folding the food up and handing it back to Merlin but Merlin grabbed her hands, holding them within his own.

"No, I don't think you understand. I've never known anyone like you," he replied, his eyes begging her to let him into her heart, to let him care for her and even love her one day. He began to remove his hands from hers but she caught hold of them herself. "I wish I could stay but we need to be careful. I'll come back in the morning. You know that, don't you?" Merlin said regretfully, clearly wishing he could spend every second of the day with her. Slowly he extracted his hands from hers and stood up, beginning to move away when he was stopped by Freya's voice.

"Merlin, I've never known anyone like you either," she whispered, finally letting him know that she was willing to try and trust again. Arthur silently agreed with her, knowing that Merlin was one in a kind, that you wouldn't be able to find a kinder, braver soul in the whole world. A small part of him wished that Merlin had fallen for someone else, someone who he could have been with freely and without the fear of discovery. However, he quickly dismissed that thought; Merlin would have had to lie to her or have her lie to others in order to protect his secret. No relationship could survive with the amount of secrets his friend had.

The night must have passed when the scene changed because Freya had moved, her arms wrapped around herself while she focused intently on the stone floor. She didn't even react when Merlin came bumbling in, carrying a huge disc of crusty bread. Arthur felt his stomach twinge as she realised what the night must mean for Freya, being forced to turn into a monster and kill people. It had been a young couple that she had killed that night, if he remembered correctly. Perhaps the human side of her had felt drawn to them due to her and Merlin's growing feelings for each other, but the animal side had taken over before she could stop it. This was no doubt the cause of her regretful expression.

"I know, I'm late again. Sorry. But, this is going to be the best bread you have ever tasted. What do you want with it? Come on. You can have anything: ham, cheese…" Merlin chattered cheerfully, clearly not aware of Freya's actions last night.

"Strawberries," Freya answered softly, raising her head to smile shyly at him. Merlin looked a little surprised at her answer but grinned good-naturedly at her odd suggestion anyway.

"Strawberries it is," he said, making a show of rubbing his hands together and flexing them as if preparing for a huge feat of magic. Arthur smiled fondly at his manservant's attempts to cheer Freya up, treating her as if she was a small frightened child. " _Blostma_ ," he whispered, eyes flashing gold as he cupped his hands together. Slowly, he opened them, revealing the red rose nestled with his palms. Arthur groaned at his cheesy attempt to flirt with Freya, trying not to laugh at Merlin's attempts to justify its completely 'accidental' creation. Although he couldn't keep the smile off his face as Freya blushed, taking the offered rose and twirling it in her fingers. Her eyes sparkled with affection as she gazed at the false strawberry as if she couldn't quite believe this was all real. The two's peaceful atmosphere was shattered by the sound of boots stomping along the passageway. Both of their heads shot up and turned in the direction of the sounds, faces mirroring each other's panic.

"They must've followed me," Merlin exclaimed, willing the candles to go out and pulling Freya close up against the wall beside him as torchlight drew nearer. Present Arthur stood outside the alcove, watching with barely concealed hatred as Halig strode down the tunnel towards their hiding place. His instincts demanded he reach out and throttle the man for what he had done but he knew that the bounty hunter was just an image. Arthur held his breath as the man searched the hiding space but missed the couple pressed into the shadows of the wall. He shook his head and stomped off in frustration, with Arthur making a very un-princely hand gesture at his back. Behind him Freya slid to the ground, supported by Merlin as he hastily relit a candle to illuminate the darkness. As gently as if cradling a child, Merlin gathered Freya into his arms as she shook with fear.

"They're going to find me. I can't go back in that cage, I can't," she sobbed, clutching his arm as she trembled at the thought of being trapped behind iron bars again. Arthur sunk down against the opposite wall; he wished he had convinced his father to let the girl go. The look of terror on her face made him want to slap his younger self to see sense: that magic wasn't bad, just his father's hypocrisy.

"I won't let that happen. I promised you I'd look after you, and I will. No matter what. You really don't realise how special you are, do you?" Merlin whispered, not breaking eye contact with Freya for a second, stroking her knuckles with one finger soothingly.

"You're not scared of me?" Freya asked with such raw vulnerability in her voice that Arthur felt his eyes grow moist. He told himself sternly that he wasn't crying; kings don't cry.

Freya stared up at Merlin with a look that Arthur found scarily familiar; he had seen that look before on someone else's face. Merlin's. It was the same expression his manservant had worn when he had collapsed into Gwen's arms. A look of hope that perhaps, just perhaps, someone might accept him for who he truly was. They really were perfect for each other, Arthur mused.

"Being different is nothing to be scared of," Merlin answered softly and their faces drew closer together until Arthur was sure they could feel the warmth from each other's breath on their skin. He slowly got up and moved off out of view of the couple as they finally closed the gap, their lips meeting in a kiss. He missed the lone tear run down Merlin's face as if he couldn't contain the emotions he was feeling like an internal dam had burst and everything was spilling out. Arthur though that even in visions this was too private a moment to intrude upon.

When Arthur turned back, Merlin was gone and Freya had moved out of the alcove, further into the actual tunnel.

"What are you doing here?" Freya exclaimed as Merlin came flying past where Arthur was standing with a huge grin on his face. Arthur jolted, thinking for one second that Freya had been talking to him and he had somehow found his way into the past.

"I couldn't help it," Merlin said.

"It's dangerous," Freya pointed out, exasperated at how one kiss hours ago had scrambled his mind.

"I'm fed up with being careful. I am fed up with all of this. So I've decided, we're going to get you out of Camelot," he answered, grinning as he stood in front of her.

"How?"

"I'll get you some clothes, disguise you. What's wrong?" Merlin began to explain only to notice that his excited smile wasn't shared on her face.

"It's just, I'm going to miss you," she said sadly but Arthur was surprised that Merlin didn't seem phased by their imminent separation if his expression was to go by.

"No, you won't, because I'm going to come with you," Merlin replied cheerfully and Arthur's mouth dropped open in shock. Merlin had actually considered leaving, eloping with this druid girl to abandon his friends and home. Were his friendships here so meaningless that it was so easy for him to up and leave? He probably wouldn't have even said goodbye, they would have just woken up one morning and he would have gone, leaving them to worry and stress over if he had died or been kidnapped.

"You can't. Don't say that," Freya exclaimed and Merlin's face fell as if he had been punched.

"It's not what you want?" he said quietly, taking a step back almost preparing himself for rejection.

"Merlin, you have a good life here. My life is... I have to keep moving, always looking over my shoulder, people chasing me," Freya answered calmly, trying to pacify Merlin. Arthur agreed with her, he wasn't about to watch his best friend walk away from everyone who cared about him to go with a girl who shapeshifted into a dangerous predator.

"Tell him!" Arthur shouted at the vision of Freya, knowing that this had already happened but still unable to stop himself from trying.

"Then we'll go somewhere no one knows us. Somewhere far away. You haven't given me your answer," Merlin pleaded, desperately wanting his beautiful dream away from destiny to come true.

"I want that more than anything. Where will we go?" Freya finally said, laughing in pure happiness at the idea of being truly free. Arthur felt a small traitorous part of himself wishing that Merlin had managed to leave with Freya and fulfil their plan even if it meant he had never seen his friend again. It created a tranquil picture in his mind of a little cottage by a lake surrounded by fields of wildflowers with a few cows grazing and framed by the tallest, snow-capped mountains. A landscape that mirrored its residents.

-Night has passed-

When Merlin came flying around the corner, a red and purple silk dress folded over his arm, Arthur began to chuckle to himself. He remembered that dress and the night he had been walking down a corridor when he had run into a certain servant carrying it. He had teased Merlin for months afterwards about his choice of hobby. Now, it turned out that the dress wasn't for his manservant at all. He most certainly wasn't going to apologize for it when - if - Merlin woke up, because he had had to listen to Morgana complain for ages about the loss of one of her favorite dresses.

"Believe me, it was not easy getting you this," Merlin said happily, holding the dress out in front of him with a flourish. Arthur tried to withhold his laughter again as he recalled Gwen once telling him about Merlin's moth excuse.

Freya's face lit up with amazement and Arthur could guess that she had never seen such an expensive and well-made garment before in her life, let alone been presented with one.

"It's beautiful," she breathed, reaching out to take the dress and hold it against her body.

"You look like a princess," Merlin complimented, unable to take his eyes off such a beautiful sight. However, Freya's eyes soon lost their sparkle and she handed the item of clothing back to him.

"I'm not and I can't take this. You keep doing all these things for me when I don't deserve them," she answered, tears pooling in her eyes as she turned away from Merlin. His expression changing to one of sorrow and confusion at his rejected gift.

"Here. Please. You'll look wonderful in it and tonight as soon as it gets dark we can leave and be together," he pleaded, his desperation to keep the girl he loved safe evident in the look on his face. He held the dress out for her to take again and Freya waited for a few seconds before taking it.

"We'll need supplies," she said shyly, her whole body beginning to brighten up as she agreed to the idea. In his excitement, Merlin didn't notice the sad gleam that remained in Freya's eyes but Arthur did and his heart sunk. He knew what that glimmer meant and it pained him to watch the emotion she poured into their kiss as Merlin left as if she never wanted it to end. Arthur realized that by the time Merlin got back she wouldn't be there. Those two really were too similar, the same self-sacrificing tendencies.

Sure enough, the slight blurriness of time passing as the memory shifted, Merlin appeared again, a travel bag slung over his shoulders. He stared at the empty alcove and the agonized shout that he let out cut Arthur to the core. He followed his distraught manservant as he sprinted through the maze of corridors and passageways under the castle, searching in vain for Freya. Whilst muttering to himself about how he should have known, he should have realized and helped her get out sooner. Arthur comprehended that Gaius must have worked it out and told Merlin, knowing that his ward would have been the one to hide her. Merlin knew what Freya was but it didn't seem to make an ounce of difference as the manservant searched everywhere for her before finally collapsing on his bed in grief. Arthur perched on the end of it, watching as his friend stared at the wall in complete silence, mourning the loss of his love. He wished he had been there to comfort him, gods, he wished that anyone had been there then to comfort Merlin: Gwen, one of the knights, Gaius…

Abruptly, almost as if his wish had been granted, Gaius slowly opened the door and sighed as he took in the sight of the grieving warlock. He approached the bed and sat almost next to Arthur at the end of it, peering at the young man with a sad expression.

"I do understand how you must feel, Merlin," he began softly but Merlin just shook his head, eyes filling with tears.

"You can never understand," he said, turning to face Gaius. "Do you know it feels to be a monster? To be afraid of who you are?"

Arthur flinched at the word 'monster', the guilt of knowing that it was his own father that had caused Merlin to look on himself that way. To feel like he was what was wrong with this world. Arthur couldn't imagine ever being afraid of himself; sure he had been scared of being king, of failing his subjects, but never of himself.

"Freya is different from you, she's dangerous," Gaius persisted but just succeeded in making Merlin angry.

"Whatever she is and whatever she's done, she doesn't deserve to die. I just hope she's safe, somewhere far away from here," he answered wistfully, the injustice in his voice fading into resignation. Arthur stood, moving away from his friend; he couldn't bear to be near him knowing that he had taken a blade to Freya; he had put her in danger and injured her, possibly even… He couldn't think about that yet.

The tolling of the warning bells startled him out of his thoughts as they alerted the city of danger. Merlin was off the bed in seconds, flying through the physician's chamber and into the corridors of the castle with Arthur hot on his heels. He remembered what happened next with horrifying clarity: trapping the druid girl into a corner; the striking of the bells to mark midnight; the chilling transformation of girl to beast. The sensation of his sword slicing through toned muscle and fur had him freezing as he heard the wounded cry of the Bastet echo across the town. He watched as Merlin halted in the courtyard where Freya was surrounded; saw himself approaching the beast with his sword raised. However, he witnessed something else that he had never noticed before happening, the Bastet's eyes lost their bloodthirst and the angered cries turned into whimpers. Arthur tracked its gaze until it rested on Merlin; the girl inside the beast recognized him. Freya had overcome that part of the curse because of her love for Merlin. She had stopped being a danger but the knights didn't know that, they continued their advance. Arthur kept his eyes on Merlin as his manservant looked tormented, gaze flashing from Arthur's past self to his lover, trying to choose who to help and who to die.

Suddenly, the head of a gargoyle loosened and crashed to the ground between him and the Bastet, sending all of the knights ducking as it shattered. Arthur watched as Merlin's eyes regained their natural colour and Freya flew off. His manservant had chosen to save them both. Merlin paused enough to make sure that Arthur hadn't been injured before sprinting away from the scene after the fleeing Bastet. The power of the spell dragging future Arthur along behind him through the now familiar twisting passageways until the wounded moans of the beast could be heard clearly. Merlin rounded a corner and there stood panting before him was the Bastet, Freya. The girl within the beast had won the fight for control and its eyes were soft with pain and love.

Slowly, Merlin reached out a hand to place on her forehead and Arthur's hand flew to where his sword would normally be instinctively but Freya didn't move, just shifted slightly under Merlin's warm palm. Love really could overcome all barriers it seemed, Arthur thought, watching the fond exchange. Freya turned suddenly, groaning in pain before limping further along the corridor and Arthur wondered when he had stopped seeing her as a beast.

In the distance, the roars grew louder and sharper in tone before morphing into the cries of a human in pain. Merlin stopped so abruptly that Arthur almost walked right through him, peeking out from behind a wall were a pair of legs. Arthur joined the dots together in his mind and didn't go any further, he would not rob Freya of her dignity when he may have robbed her of her… life. The thought left him breathless and he grabbed onto the idea that Merlin had managed to heal her just as a drowning sailor clings to a rope. Once he saw Merlin cover Freya with his jacket, he moved so that he could see how badly he had injured her. She was weeping and curled into a foetal position backed up against the wall. Arthur wished that he had never swung his sword and the tears that filled Merlin's own eyes only increased his grief for the couple.

"You must hate me," Freya choked out, her voice strained from pain and sadness. Merlin brushed his hands over her face and hair, trying to calm her and himself.

"No, no. Never," he objected, the horror at the idea evident in his voice, his eyes never leaving her face. Arthur knelt beside them, hands clasped tightly in his lap, listening to the story of how she was cursed to kill. She had no choice, the words rang over and over in his head. 'You may have killed an innocent girl, Merlin's love'. Arthur didn't know how he would ever be able to look at his friend again if she died.

"I'm going to make you better," Merlin promised desperately and hope flared within Arthur. Merlin would have healed her with magic and they had managed to be together in secret since then, he reasoned.

"You can't, the wound is too deep. Please go," Freya answered sadly, her eyes closing in pain. Arthur slumped further at her words, trying to hold onto his theory.

"No, I'm not leaving you here," Merlin said, gathering her up into his arms with such gentleness as if he was holding a new-born baby. Good, Arthur thought; take her to Gaius, he can treat the wound, but much to Arthur's confusion Merlin snuck right past the way to Gaius' chambers. Maybe he's taking her to the druids; they are known for their healing skills, he reasoned again when Merlin made it outside of the city. Arthur could hear his heart pounding in his ears as Merlin didn't stop, walking as if he was a man in a trance. Even when the heavens opened and it began to rain as if the sky was crying alongside them he kept walking. Arthur didn't know where Merlin had found that much strength and stamina to have carried Freya such a long distance from the city or why he had in the first place; it seemed to Arthur as if he was searching for somewhere.

When Merlin finally began to slow down as they passed out of a line of trees, Arthur knew exactly why. A lake stretched out in front of them with a surface so clear that the trees and mountains surrounding it were reflected on it. Gentle raindrops created ripples that travelled like cracks across it, making it seem like the lake was shattering under the force of the couple's emotions. The forest and mountains stood as a barrier, protecting them from the atrocities outside of the tranquil scenery around them.

Merlin sank to his knees and carefully lay Freya on the pebbled beach by the water's edge. She opened her eyes and turned her head to the side to gaze out across the lake, taking in the beauty of their shared dream.

"You remembered," she whispered, twisting back to look at him as his tears mingled with the raindrops leaking down his face.

"Of course," he replied, trying to muster a smile on his face. Arthur leant against the nearest tree as his throat threatened to close up, he tried to swallow the lump in it, tried to fight the burning in his eyes but found that he no longer had the energy to do so.

"There must be something I can do. Some way to save you," Merlin choked out, throat also constricted by emotion as he watched the girl he loved dying in his arms.

"You have already saved me: you made me feel loved," Freya responded, her eyes closing and head beginning to fall backwards. Arthur couldn't bear to look but he forced himself to; he would suffer the consequences of his actions as she had, and as Merlin had.

"But I don't want you to go," Merlin protested weakly, the unsaid words of 'like so many others I have loved' remaining lodged in his throat.

"Oh gods," Arthur gasped out as it finally fully hit him; there was no way Merlin could have saved her. He had killed her; the woman Merlin had loved. He had taken that joy away from his friend and still Merlin had continued to serve, protect and care for him, even helping him find his own love. How had Merlin bared to watch him and Gwen, knowing that he would never feel that again himself?

Arthur heard the agonized sob from Merlin and knew that Freya had passed away, he turned to look through blurry eyes as Merlin clutched Freya's body to his chest and wept. The sheer emotion in his voice telling of how deeply he had cared for her and how it had felt like his soul had been ripped in two.

It passed in slow motion for Arthur as he watched Merlin conjure a boat and fill it with a bed of fresh ferns before laying Freya inside. Then Merlin stepped back and shakily raised a hand.

"Astrice," he said softly, causing the boat to slowly move away from the beach and towards the centre of the lake with a flicker of golden eyes. Arthur heaved his body off the tree trunk and went to stand by his friend's shoulder. Merlin went to raise his arm again but was overcome with emotion as he fought to keep the beautiful image of Freya alive in his mind. Gradually, he lifted it once more and whispered the words of a spell, tears trickling down his face. Fire spread through the boat and engulfed it in a golden glow, separating them forever. He turned away from the scene, the perfect dream he had created in his mind shattering into pieces that slashed at his heart.

Arthur continued to stand completely still even as he felt the pull of the vision fading, he fought it desperate to keep that memory alive as if to let it end would be like killing Freya over again. Those four hideous words dominating his thoughts: he had killed Freya. He gave in like the coward he believed himself to be, collapsing to his knees and refusing to acknowledge the presence of Gwen or the other knights as he stared straight ahead. No tears fell from his eyes nor did a single word pass his throat, the guilt making him blind, deaf and dumb.

He was broken from his thoughts by the presence of a hand gripping his; it was calloused from work and thin. It was Merlin's. He gazed at his friend's face as, although his eyes remained closed, his mouth began to move. He leant closer, prepared to hear the cruel insults he deserved but instead Merlin whispered three single words that took Arthur by complete surprise.

"I forgive you."


End file.
